


What I Like to Hear

by SmolPidge



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bisexual Claude von Riegan, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Slow Burn, Verdant Wind route, essentially a collection of claude/hilda moments through the deer route, mentions of the other golden deer, the oneshots are officially interconnected woops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 19:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolPidge/pseuds/SmolPidge
Summary: Hilda and Claude have never had the luxury of friends, so when they first meet at the Officer's Academy, they're willing to give this friendship thing a try. As it turns out, neither of them are particularly good at it. A collection of interconnected one-shots showing off the progression of Claude and Hilda's relationship throughout the Golden Deer route.(updated summary as of 3/27/2020)





	1. "Well, I suppose that someone’s got to keep you out of trouble."

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers this chapter. This chapter is pre-Byleth's arrival.

When Hilda opened her eyes, she was greeted by a musky red wall. 

_ Red? _

It took her a few moments to ease the slight panic that came with forgetting where one was, but after remembering, all she could do was draw out a long sigh. The Officer’s Academy. Right. Her brother had sent her here. 

She’d always assumed that since she wasn’t in line to inherit House Goneril, she’d be allowed to skip out on this sort of thing. She’d already grown accustomed to being the shining image of female nobility, perfecting her manners, looks, even dancing. That should have been enough to appease the great General Holst, who seemed to effortlessly keep Fodlan’s Locket under control. He didn’t need her on the battlefield; that much was clear. Yet, he’d claimed that should he fall someday (as if that were even a possibility), she’d need her to take over. And thus, she’d been sent to Garreg Mach with only her most precious of belongings and an axe her brother had picked out especially for her. 

An _ axe. _ Sure, it was the weapon she was most familiar with, but couldn’t he have at least picked out something more elegant, like a spear? Or maybe something that didn’t require her to get so close to an enemy, like a bow? She’d even consider learning magic if not for the extensive studying that came with the practice. An axe was fine when she was being forced to spar with Holst in the courtyard, not when she’d be observed and judged by who-knows-how-many others. Regardless, it was up to her professor to figure out what to do with her. If she played her cards right, maybe she could get said professor to take pity on her...

Boxes of her belongings were still piled up against each other where she’d left them the night before, aching to be unpacked. After such a long journey, she had opted to leave such exhausting work for some other time. She wished she’d just dealt with it sooner, if only to save herself that little scare in the morning, but what was done was done. 

Now that she _ was _ awake, however, Hilda was tempted to stay in bed as a silent act of rebellion against her brother. Granted, he wouldn’t be hearing of her skipping her first day of orientation for another few days, seeing as how mail always took ages to reach the far east of Alliance territory, but still. Then again, she could imagine his voice bearing down on her when he _ did _receive the news. Knowing him, he’d leave Fodlan’s Locket in the care of her father and come all the way to Garreg Mach just to give her an earful. 

_ Best not to risk it after all. _

Before she could change her mind again, she reluctantly got up and dressed into the school uniform. It was much plainer than anything she would have chosen to wear otherwise, but at least it wasn’t ugly. Except for the coat. It wasn’t like it was cold out anyway. 

A knock on her door distracted her midway through her hair routine. Keeping one hand around the ponytail she was working on, she called out, “Yes?”

“Hilda, is it? I was just checking that you were up,” a voice said from outside. It was a smooth, young voice, likely another student. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m up. I’ll be out before orientation starts, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I’m not here for anything like that,” the voice seemed to dispel the thought. “Actually, I was hoping for your assistance in something.” 

Hilda rolled her eyes. Classes hadn’t even started yet and she was already being asked to do things! Still, if she was going to be here for an entire year, she couldn’t start off on the wrong foot. She was quite popular back home, and she planned to retain that reputation at the monastery as well. Besides, maybe she’d be able to cash in a favor in return. Those boxes wouldn’t unpack themselves, after all. 

Quickly tying her hair into place and smoothing out her clothes, she opened the door to find a young man with messy brown hair, an odd braid hanging from one side of his face. He looked young enough to be a student, wearing a unique variation of the standard school uniform with a yellow cape attached to one shoulder. He was smiling, green eyes dazzling with mischief. She knew that look well; she’d pulled it out on her brother more times than she could count. 

“Yes?” she repeated, looking him over one more time. 

“Have you met Lorenz yet?” 

“Excuse me?”

“Gloucester boy. Tall, pointy nose, awful haircut?” 

Hilda was familiar with the Gloucester name. Rivaled only by House Riegan itself, it stood as one of the most powerful houses in the Alliance. That said, she couldn’t recall having ever met the heir of said family. The closest she could think of was having met his father at a dinner at some point years ago. After all, with Fodlan’s Locket always up for grabs, her family didn’t venture out much, and visitors were scarce. 

“No?” she finally answered, wary of what her response would mean. 

“Excellent!” The student pumped his fist. “You’re perfect for the job then.” 

_ Oh boy… a job. _ “What job, exactly?” she asked. Maybe she’d concede if it was an easy task, and if were really such a bother, she could always pull the ‘ _ I still need to unpack’ _excuse. 

“It’s simple really,” the boy said as if those words were meant to brush aside all of her doubts and worries in one go. “I need you to knock on his door for me and give him this.” Saying this, he dug his hand into one of his pockets and took out a small pouch, which he then handed over to her. 

“What’s this?” she questioned, warily weighing the pouch in her hand. It was full to the brim, but light. 

“Tea leaves,” he replied.

It _ did _sound like an easy task, yet she couldn’t help but hold off on trusting this student. If there weren’t a catch involved, then why wouldn’t he just do it himself? “And you need me to give these to him, why?” 

“Well, Leonie and Ignatz refused, and I don’t want to get Rapahel or Marianne involved. Lysithea said she would do it but she bailed on me last second to study-”

Hilda interrupted his spewing of unfamiliar names. “And you can’t do it yourself?” 

The student shook his head. “No way. After last time, I’ll be lucky if Lorenz ever accepts anything from me ever again.” 

“_ After last time? _”

“You only got here last night, right? The rest of us Golden Deer have been getting to know each other these past couple of days, but I seem to have given off a bad first impression to my dearest Lorenz.” 

_ Great, so he’s in my class… _

“So he won’t accept these from you?” 

“Precisely!” the student gave her a wide grin. “That’s where you come in.”

“Then am I to assume that these aren’t for your typical tea party?” Hilda pressed. Though she was by no means a tea connoisseur, one whiff of the bag set her suspicions high. She’d never smelt anything quite like it. 

The boy’s eyes widened slightly before composing himself shortly afterwards. “You catch on quick; I like that.”

Ever one for praise, Hilda hated to admit that his flattery was getting to her. That said, she wasn’t going to bend to his will _ that _easily. “What’s in it for me?” 

“If it’s a favor you want, a favor you’ll get,” the boy caught on. “Though I can’t imagine there being anything better than Lorenz missing out on orientation.”

“You sound as if these leaves are poisoned!”

“Oh, that’s because they _ are _,” the boy nodded nonchalantly. 

“You’re asking me to kill the guy?” Hilda instinctively pulled the pouch out of his reach, her other hand taking hold of the doorknob in case she needed to barricade herself inside her room. What if this guy was only posing as a student and was actually framing her for his crimes?

Upon noticing her actions, the boy took a step back and raised his arms as if to surrender. “Woah, woah, relax! Of course I don’t want to kill him!”

“Then what?”

“The poison is just meant to give him a stomach ache, digestion problems, you know? It’ll only be effective long enough for him to miss the next couple days of orientation.” 

“Well, that seems a bit cruel.” 

“Trust me, he deserves it, just this once.”

“I’m sure he can’t be _ that _bad,” Hilda crossed her arms over her chest. 

“You haven’t been here to find out, but I assure you, his babbling will reach your ears eventually, and when it does, you’ll be glad you got to postpone it, if only for a little while.”

“Well…” In all honesty, Hilda had no desire to do the Gloucester heir any harm. For all she knew, she was playing right into this boy’s trap. However, this little act of rebellion, if pulled off, would be satisfying enough to soothe her qualms with her brother. Besides, he _ had _offered a favor… 

Stretching her arms out and giving a hearty yawn, she averted her eyes to the ground and said, “Well, it _ is _going to take me some time to get used to the monastery, and I still have so much to unpack… it might be a while before I can attend to any chores, especially since I’m no good at them…”

As if reading her thoughts, the boy gave her an elegant bow and winked. “Consider it done, my lady.” 

* * *

Hilda only felt slightly guilty as she knocked on Lorenz’ door, hiding the bag of tea leaves innocently behind her back. She could feel the boy’s eyes observing her from behind a hedge some feet away. She’d tried convincing him that she could get the job done just fine on her own, but he’d been insistent on being there to witness it all go down. 

When the door opened, Hilda found herself stifling a chuckle as she realized what the boy had meant about Lorenz’ haircut. Still, she managed to keep her composure and gave him a smile, one perfected over years of experience. She even bent a knee a little so as to seem tame and demure. “Lorenz, right? I just came to introduce myself.”

“Why, you must be Miss Goneril!” Lorenz’ eyes widened slightly before reaching for one of her hands (she quickly transferred the bag to the other) and holding it up to his lips for a kiss. Once he’d done so, he took a step back and bowed. “I am Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, heir of House Gloucester. Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” It might have just been the wind, but Hilda swore she heard a snicker from the hedge. 

Ignoring it, Hilda put herself back on track. “Oh, yes I’ve certainly heard of the Gloucesters. My family is constantly impressed by yours.”

“Are they?” Lorenz seemed a bit confused, yet oddly pleased. “Well,” he straightened himself, “that is to be expected from a family such as mine.”

Hilda fought to urge to grimace, instead, flipping one of her ponytails and shuffling her feet to avert attention from her face. “Of course. As such, I came to offer you a gift.”

“Oh, no gift is necessary,” Lorenz shook his head. 

“No, I insist!” Hilda moved closer, finally revealing the bag of tea leaves and holding it out. “This is for you!” Without giving him a chance to retaliate, she pushed the bag into his hand, closed it shut, and patted it for good measure. 

Without replying, Lorenz opened the bag slightly and smiled. “Tea leaves?”

“I heard you were quite the tea connoisseur, so when a merchant along the way gave me these, I just had to get them. Apparently they’re from Dagda! You’ll probably enjoy them much more than I will, though.” 

“Dagda, you say? I’ve read much about them in my studies (a Gloucester should always be informed of such things, you see), but I haven’t had a chance to try out their tea,” Lorenz inspected a few of the leaves in his palm and took a sniff. Holding her breath, Hilda could only hope that his talent didn’t extend to detecting poisons. 

“Well, if you’re so insistent, I suppose that I can’t say no,” Lorenz concluded, dropping the leaves in his hand back into the pouch and drawing the string shut. “I simply must invite you to share it with me, however. As part of the nobility, it is our responsibility to create strong connections now, yes?”

Panicking, Hilda jumped back and held her arms out. “Oh, no, no! I can’t do that!” 

Lorenz seemed taken aback by her sudden reaction, stepping back a little into his own room. In an attempt to correct her mistake, Hilda quickly added, “I’m… allergic!”

“To tea? For a noble, that must be quite disappointing...”

“No, no, just to one of the spices on the leaves, actually,” she lied, intentionally being vague so as not to have to avoid a variety of foods throughout the year. 

“Oh, well that’s too bad,” Lorenz’ voice dropped, as if he was legitimately upset by her response. If she hadn’t already agreed to follow through with this, she might have felt sorry for him. Still, it was for the greater good. Though this type of behavior was manageable in small doses, there was no way that she’d be able to put up with it for an entire day. Orientation would already be exhausting enough without him….

_ Oh! _

“That said…” she continued, ensuring that she was putting up her most charming act yet. “I thought you might be able to brew it for everyone else instead, you know? A whole tea party of sorts.” 

“Tea party?”

“Yes! You could serve it at orientation!”

“Oh!” Lorenz’ eyes lit up. “That is certainly a lovely idea. Nothing brings people together like a good cup of tea. Maybe _ that way _, that Riegan boy will finally recognize my likeness.”

_ Riegan? _ As far as Hilda was aware, the youngest Reigan had died in an accident some time ago. There had been rumors of another heir, but she hadn’t thought anything of it. Guess, there had been some truth to those rumors after all. 

Putting those thoughts to the side for the time being, Hilda nodded, smiling wide. “Exactly! I won’t be able to have any, but it’s enough to see everyone else enjoy it.”

“I must thank you, then,” Lorenz gave another quick bow and said, “You must excuse me; I must get going if I’m going to prepare all of it.” 

“Of course!” Hilda nodded, waving him goodbye. With that, he closed his door, humming a melody as he did so. 

Once Hilda was far away from the door as to not be overheard by Lorenz inside, the boy from before came jumping out of the hedge, laughing to his heart’s content. He gripped Hilda by the shoulder as he bent over, the other hand supporting his stomach. 

“Are you crying?” Hilda said, observing the tears forming at the edge of his eyes. 

“Can you blame me?” the boy finally let himself breathe and reply. Straightening up slightly, he looked her in the eye. “You didn’t have to go that far, you know, but that was absolutely brilliant.”

Hilda felt her cheeks flush. It was rare that she received a compliment based on her abilities. She rarely did anything worth writing home about, and all other compliments had been positive notes on her manners, charm, or looks. Despite the questionable ethical stance of her actions just now, she couldn’t help but feel just a little proud for pulling it off. 

“Do you think he’ll be mad at me afterwards, though? I don’t want him holding a grudge against me if we’ll be in the same house all year.”

“Nah, I doubt it,” the boy shook his head. “He’ll either blame it on himself or assume that you made a mistake. I’m sure you could lie your way out if need be regardless.” 

“I suppose you’re not wrong,” Hilda giggled. If there was anything she was particularly good at, it was avoiding getting in trouble. The notable exception to that proficiency was her brother, but without him around, she could get away with anything she wanted. 

“Worst comes to worst, I’ll tell him to quit it,” the boy shrugged, offering Hilda his arm. 

Deciding to humor him, Hilda looped her arm around his as he lead them to the cathedral, where they were meant to gather for morning activities and announcements in a while. Despite his rugged demeanor, she’d be lying if she didn’t find him handsome. Having people see them together like this could end up working wonders for her image. “What makes you think that he’ll listen to you? You needed me to do your dirty work this time, after all.” 

The boy shrugged. “Well, you’re right about that.”

“So?”

“Let’s just say that bearing the Riegan name comes with a few perks.”

Hilda almost stopped in her tracks at the name. Letting go of his arm, she exclaimed, “_ Riegan _? You’re lying to me.” 

“Hey, I know I certainly don’t ooze noble charm the same way Lorenz does, but I can assure you that I’m not lying to you. Not _ this _time, at least.”

Hilda couldn’t come up with any words. She simply stared at the boy, dumbfounded. The boy must have taken her silence for some sort of invitation, however. 

“I guess I haven’t properly introduced myself.” The boy moved to face her and offered his hand. “Claude von Riegan, heir of House Riegan, but more importantly, head of the Golden Deer House, at your service.” 

Before Hilda could stop herself, she burst out in laughter. Just her luck to have befriended her house leader, despite having been adamant about doing the exact opposite just a few nights before. She supposed that karma had a way with her. 

“Now, I know I’m funny, but I’m not _ that _ funny,” Claude said, his hand still up for the taking. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Hilda gradually calmed her laughter and reached out for his arm, clinging onto it so as to keep her balance while she still recovered from her fit. Now that the damage was done, there was no use in keeping her distance. 

“No need to apologize, fair Hilda,” Claude grinned, failing to ask what she’d found so funny. “After what you’ve just pulled off, I’m inclined to accept whatever you have in store for me for some time.”

“Oh, really?” 

“You bet,” Claude assured her. 

“I guess I can’t complain, then,” Hilda laughed. 

* * *

Lorenz had shown up to the cathedral only a half-hour or so after his conversation with Hilda, apologizing profusely for being a little late, but trying to make up for it with his tea cart, which he enthusiastically pushed around, offering tea to all those he met along the way. Within the hour, before orientation could really get rolling that morning, most students had come down with a stomach bug. By noon, the only ones to not have been affected ended up being the Fraldarius boy (who had refused the tea on principle), the boy who had overslept and thus hadn’t been around when the tea was being served, and a majority of the Golden Deer (save for Ignatz, whose poor soul failed to be warned in time). Raphael had also partaken in some tea, but with such a large physique, the dosage must not have been enough to lower his spirits, or his bowels. Needless to say, with so many students feeling under the weather, orientation was postponed indefinitely for the time being.

Now back in her room much earlier than she’d anticipated, Hilda sat on her bed as she observed Claude opening box after box, asking where she wanted him to place certain objects. 

“I know I offered this time,” he said, pushing an empty crate out of the room to get rid of later, “but you should know that I’m not going to be doing this kind of work for you _ all _of the time. You’ll have to do some of your own work yourself at some point.”

Hilda brought her hand up to her chest and gasped, as if deeply offended by the comment. “Why, Claude! Are you implying that a delicate flower such as I will be forced to do so much grunt work? What sort of monastery would allow such a thing?”

Claude chuckled, “You’re right. I’m sure you’ll have the entire monastery wrapped around your finger in no time.”

“I mean, not that I’m doubting you…” Hilda dropped the act for a moment to ask a serious question. “But what makes you say that?” 

“Well, you’ve already got me doing your work, and I consider myself the toughest nut to crack in these parts.” 

Hilda rolled her eyes, playfully kicking him with the toe of her shoe. “You? The toughest? I think I’m gonna need some convincing.”

“Well, I’ve got a whole year, haven’t I? Assuming you’ll keep me around, of course.”

Despite how little time they’d spent with each other and how easy it might’ve been to keep him at arm’s length once he’d finished unpacking, Hilda couldn’t imagine getting through the year without this boy who seemingly brewed potions as a hobby. She’d intended to keep a low profile in the world of politics, and becoming friends with the heir to the leader of the Alliance certainly wasn’t the way to do that. Yet, there was something relaxing about him that soothed her nerves, and his scheming mentality could certainly come in handy in the future. 

Additionally, although she’d asked around in the brief time period that she was at the cathedral, no one seemed to know much about this newest Riegan. She’d be lying if she wasn’t just a little bit curious to find out more, and what better way than befriending him like this? Even if he was tough to crack, she’d already cracked him once, right? So who’s to say that she couldn’t do it again? 

“Well, I suppose that someone’s got to keep you out of trouble,” was her response. She laid herself out on the bed so that she couldn’t see his reaction, but she could feel his smile all the same. 

“That’s what I like to hear.”


	2. "Oh, Claude. You know I don’t have any secrets."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a silent agreement between the two of them that they don't ask questions. Claude isn't very good at abiding by this agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes spoilers for Claude's character (though not necessarily his route) and also Claude and Hilda's C support. I think everyone reading this has probably gotten that far, but you have been warned regardless.
> 
> Also, sorry for taking so long to update. College is a bitch sometimes. Hopefully the next chapter doesn't take nearly as long. Hope you enjoy!

If Claude wanted to see his goals come to fruition, he’d have to gain favor with the Gonerils. As the young heir to House Riegan, one would have thought that it would be a relatively easy affair, but as it turned out, more than a few setbacks came with the fact that he’d only been recognized as heir for a measly year. That, paired with the fact that the Gonerils always seemed too busy attending to their border to pay any visits or accept visitors of their own, made everything much harder than originally planned. 

Of course, that didn’t mean that Claude was ready to throw in the towel just yet. He had a sliver of hope left, one that came in the shape of a certain pink-haired classmate. Though getting close to the great General Holst would’ve been ideal, his little sister would just have to do. That is why, despite having had his mind set on tricking Ferdinand into helping him with his scheme, he’d knocked on Hilda’s door instead, toxic tea leaves tucked neatly in his pocket. He knew little about her other than her name and status; now was the time to learn everything else. 

Observation #1: She was sharp. Sharp enough to ask all of the right questions. She had a healthy amount of caution, and she could make out the particularity of his wording almost immediately. She could improvise on the spot (though her persuasion skills varied somewhat), and had enough vision to think ahead and improve her approach. 

Observation #2: She was lazy. Incredibly so. To think that she’d willingly poison a classmate to get out of performing something more laborious was slightly concerning. Maybe a little hot. But mostly concerning. That said, she wasn’t one to be pushy if someone refused. Then again, to the best of his knowledge, no one had ever actually told her no other than him. Maybe he was just flattering himself. 

Observation #3: She could probably flatter Nemesis himself without batting an eye. A merchant could give away all his wares and not even realize he’d been swindled if Hilda were the one behind it all. Hell, he’d probably feel good about it afterwards. 

Observation #4: She could also probably beat Nemesis with that fearsome axe of hers. She never trained outside of classes, and even then she performed with reluctance, but he could tell that her brother had trained her well. As much as she tried to hide it, she could swing that thing with ease and wicked accuracy. She could claim her frailty all she liked; after seeing the dents she left on the wooden targets, he had determined that any who faced her would surely be sliced in two. 

That said, he enjoyed her company more than he’d care to admit. That was observation #5. Though Hilda didn’t like talking about herself, always claiming that “her life wasn’t all that interesting,” she also didn’t pry. Whereas people like Lorenz or Edelgard were always pressing him about his past and what his plans were, Hilda was more than content with the stories he chose to share. Not only that, but she agreed to cover for him when he skipped class, she was always willing to venture into town with him, and she’d even played accomplice to some of his more petty schemes as long as she benefited from them also. She didn’t seem to care what his intentions were, and although she’d asked sometimes, a vague answer was enough for her to shrug it off and go along with it anyways. Truthfully, this whole dynamic was getting him nowhere in terms of gathering information, but he couldn’t bring himself to get frustrated by that regardless. Hilda was simply too good a companion. He hadn’t had friends in Almyra, and though Nader and his parents were usually company enough (or so he’d like to think), he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that they simply couldn’t compare to Hilda. They both knew each other so well without knowing anything at all, and at that point, he was fine with that. 

That said, he certainly wasn’t opposed to figuring out a little more about about her, if only a smidge. So when he found Hilda reading away at some document in the Golden Deer classroom, he couldn’t help but pry. “Huh? Are you actually reading, Hilda? I thought you hated studying.”

Hilda turned around, rolling her eyes. Though Claude had tried his best to keep quiet so as to catch her off guard, she seemed unfazed. “Oh, hush. It's just a letter from my brother. He sends them all the time.”

“Your brother, huh?” _ What a pleasant turn of events… _ “Isn't he known as a great general of the Alliance? A true beacon of -”

“Don't even start,” Hilda interrupted him with a groan. “That's got nothing to do with me.”

_ She doesn’t like to be compared to her brother. Noted. _

Still, he had to admit, seeing her annoyed was fun. He figured he could probably push it a little further without causing too much damage. “Uh oh, better not let your brother hear you say that! It would break his fraternal heart! But all joking aside, it sounds like he really cares for you.”

“You can say that again. He must be rather bored too, now that the situation in Almyra has settled down.”

_ There. _

Claude was sure to hide the quiver in his throat as he continued, “Ah, the Almyrans. The ‘eastern menace,’ as they're often called. I did hear your brother had fought them a number of times. In fact, I hear he's even gone toe-to-toe with Nader, the great Almyran warrior.” It was strange to refer to his own people in such a detached way, but he forced the words out all the same. 

"Nader the Undefeated, was it? Just another grizzled old man, as far as I'm concerned,” Hilda shrugged. “But my father was ecstatic when he heard my brother had defeated him. He paraded my brother all over our territory. What a pain that must have been for our people.”

Somewhat disappointed by her answer, but unwilling for her to catch on, Claude tried to bring the focus back to her. If Hilda liked to talk about anything, it was herself. “A pain? Any celebration is something to be enjoyed! Celebration puts smiles on faces faster than anything. I'm sure even you at least congratulated him, right? A smile from you would surely mean the world to your brother.”

“Well, sure. Then he got all worked up and started saying things like, _ I am the protector of Fodlan _!"

Before he could stop himself, Claude went on, “That's not far from the truth, you know. Why do you think the Almyrans have been so quiet lately? They're wary of your brother. If House Goneril of the border were a bunch of weaklings, the Almyrans would have invaded Fódlan a long time ago.”

“You talk about it as though you've spoken to the Almyrans yourself.”

_ Crap, spoke too much. _How could he have disregarded observation #1 so quickly? With excuses upon excuses compiled in his brain, ready to retrieve at a moment’s notice, he threw the most basic one out there. “Well, I am heir to the leading house of the Alliance. I'm privy to all kinds of information, whether I like it or not.”

“Hm.” Hilda must have mulled over his answer for only a fraction of a second, but in that moment, Claude could sense her trying to connect the dots in her head. “You act so nonchalant about your studies, but you know so much about politics and history. You're a hard guy to grasp, you know that, Claude?”

Claude knew Hilda wouldn’t pry. That was how things worked between them. And yet, that comment of hers strayed a little too close to a question, one he wasn’t prepared to answer. “Oh, I disagree. I'd let you grasp me any day. My hand, my heart, even my neck. But if you want to know all my secrets... you'll have to bare yours as well.”

It hadn’t come out the way he’d wanted. Not at all. _ Did I seriously just say that? _ Nonetheless, it was out there, and though Hilda paid barely any attention in class, she wasn’t one to blank out in the middle of a conversation. She’d definitely heard. 

“Oh, Claude. You know I don’t have any secrets,” was Hilda’s reply, reaching out to take his hand into hers. “And if you wanted to hold my hand, all you had to do was ask!” 

Hilda was smarter than she let on. She was playing it off, that much was certain. He could tell in the way that her smile was a little too wide and her skip a little too bouncy. She probably knew that he knew that she knew too. Still, he appreciated her mercy. If she was willing to pretend, then so was he. “I guess that might’ve been an easier way, yes.”

* * *

Observation #6: She didn’t have a very high opinion of Almyrans. As far as she was concerned, they were all brutes. Sure, she hadn’t gone that far during their own conversation, but he’d heard it all from Cyril. Not that Cyril would ever speak to him about it; Shamir was a separate matter, however, and though she wasn’t a very talkative individual either, Catherine was. 

“Yeah, apparently Hilda made Cyril a little uncomfortable the other day,” she’d begun between bites in the dining hall. Claude normally ate with the other Golden Deer, but he’d ended up at the library a little later than usual, so he’d missed them. Catherine had invited him over, though, and he wasn’t one to turn down a meal invitation. 

Claude had chuckled then. “She probably tried to make him do all her work for her.”

“Well you’re not wrong,” she’d nodded. “But apparently she was comparing him to other Almyrans.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, saying he wasn’t like the others. That he wasn’t as rough and unreliable as the rest.” 

_ Rough. Unreliable. _

Would Hilda say the same things about him if she knew the truth? With her family constantly fighting against Almyrans, it wasn’t too surprising that she’d have a bias against them, but he’d hoped, to no avail it seemed, that that wouldn’t be the case. This would make achieving his dream all the more difficult…

If these were the types of secrets she was hiding, maybe he didn’t want to find out, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, a Hilda stan, about to call her out for her racism in my own fanfic? Yup, that's happening.


	3. "I really can’t resist you, Hilda, you know that?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After days of being ignored, Hilda is finally ready to make a fuss. She never would have though that such a fuss would include a late night squabble and a dagger wound, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More character spoilers for Claude in this one, but no story spoilers. Please read the notes at the end after reading because I think it'll clear up a few things there.

“Claude, over here!” Hilda wanted to shout across the dining hall, her arms waving erratically above her head. She’d jump onto the table and do a little dance, have Lysithea use up some of her magic to make her look more impressive, or even just more obvious. If she could only get him to pay her any attention, she’d do it. Or rather, she would if it didn’t take so much effort. She had a reputation to uphold, after all. Still, she was tempted, _ highly so _. 

Therefore, when she saw that Claude had picked up his food and was headed straight towards the table where most of the other Golden Deer were waiting, she only managed a playful smile and a wide wave. “Hey, Claude! I have a seat over here just waiting for ya,” she patted the space next to her on the bench. 

He made eye contact with her, waved back, even threw her a casual smile… right before taking a seat next to Leonie instead. He sat only a seat diagonal from her. If she reached out her arm across the table, she’d be able to poke his hand. Hell, if she scooted a little to her left, he would be directly in front of her. To anyone else, this act meant nothing. To her, it was a punch in the gut. 

It was like the way he still sat next to her during class, but didn’t lean in when she tugged at his sleeve. Like the way he walked her to her room but didn’t invite himself in. Like the way he no longer protested when she asked for his dessert. Like the way he was never in his room, or pretended not to be, when she knocked.

Had she done something to upset him? She couldn’t recall having pissed him off, though she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to tell if she had. At the very least she could tell that he was trying not to make a fuss; one didn’t try to keep up such appearances if that weren’t the case. 

Unfortunately for him, Hilda was all for some good fuss. 

And so, once lights-out descended upon the monastery, Hilda snuck out of her room and walked down the hall to Claude’s. She was well-aware of his late night escapades, but she knocked on his door just in case. After a good minute without any response (she’d even pressed her ear to the crack between the door and the floor in case she could make out any shuffling or muffled breathing), she came to the conclusion that he must be out. 

With Claude, it was hard to guess where he might’ve gone, so she figured that any place was as good a guess as any. She began by descending the dorm stairs and heading towards the Officer’s Academy. She’d caught him studying late into the night in the Golden Deer classroom on several occasions. He claimed it was to make up for the time he wasted during class messing around with her or daydreaming, but she thought it more likely that he was reading things that he shouldn’t be. She was a little offended that he wouldn’t trust her with the details, but considering how little she let on about herself, she’d decided to let it go, just as she did everything else. Right now, it didn’t matter what it was that he was reading; she just hoped he’d be there. 

To her dismay, when she peeked into the classroom, there was no one to be seen. A single candle remained lit in his seat, though, so she could at least claim that he’d been there relatively recently. 

_ If not here then where? _

Hilda was just about to turn tail and check the dining hall in case he had decided to steal from the pantry again, but as she turned the corner, she spotted Claude walking in the opposite direction, muttering to himself. 

Hilda normally wasn’t one to hide her presence; that was Shamir’s job. Yet, seeing him walking there, slowly, almost dragging his feet, with bags under his eyes, one hand running through his unruly hair and the other balancing a stack of books, the top one of which was open and being read, was a sight to behold. This wasn’t the cheerful, scheming Claude she knew, not the one who would gossip late into the night on her bedroom floor or dare her to convince Ferdinand into doing something stupid. This Claude was serious, and even more so, _ tired. _

Hilda could have shown herself there, casually popped up and said something like, “Lost?” or “Stargazing tonight?”, but he’d only smile and nod and straighten himself and probably lead her back to the dorms only to sneak out a second time. Instead, a little part of her wanted to make him pay for the last week of ignoring her. She _ had _been looking for him with intentions of making a fuss. As such, she dashed up to him, aiming to push him from behind. 

“Oi!” she shouted, ready to bash him with an elbow. 

She must’ve given Claude too little credit, though, because he immediately dropped his books and spun around. Before she could reach impact, she felt a sharp sting on her elbow, as a flashing dagger came up to meet it. She was able to pull back before she crashed onto it, but her speed did cause her to tumble backwards, landing straight onto her back. 

Winded, all she could hear was heavy breathing, both hers and Claude’s. It was Claude who eventually made the first move. “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered. Hilda heard the dagger make a small clang as it hit the floor before Claude came up to her and knelt down. 

“Shit, Hilda, I’m sorry,” he continued. Hilda managed to sit up using her other elbow, Claude having taken hold of the damaged one. 

“What was _ that _for?” she spluttered, pulling away her elbow to inspect it herself. By the looks of it, the wound wasn’t deep, only a scratch, really. As long as she had it bandaged, it would be fine in no time. That said, it did sting a fair amount. 

Claude didn’t answer, instead fumbling under his uniform for something. After a while he took out a small package wrapped in crinkly brown paper. He started opening it before he even set it down, and although Hilda couldn’t get a good look at all of its contents from her angle, she could make out a few vials (vulneraries, perhaps?), a carved wooden box, and a roll of bandages, which he picked up and offered to her right away. 

“Do you carry this around with you _ all _of the time?” she asked as Claude began carefully wrapping the bandages around her elbow. He might’ve been excessive with how much he was using, but she didn’t stop him. 

Claude shrugged. “Force of habit, I suppose,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“Habit?”

Once again, he refrained from replying, instead leaning down to tear off the bandage with his teeth and tie the loose ends together. “That should do it until morning… sorry again...” he murmured. 

“Claude!” Hilda demanded his attention. Not giving him a chance to back away, she took his face into her hands and made him face her. “What did I do?”

“Huh?” Claude blinked. With an eyebrow lifted and an embarrassed grin, he feigned ignorance rather well. Hilda would have applauded him if she weren’t the current target. “Whatever do you mean?”

Still clinging to his face, Hilda shook him a little. “What did I do wrong? Why are you avoiding me?” 

“I’m not avoiding you,” he stated matter-of-factly. Another lie. 

“You _ are _.”

“We literally hung out earlier today.” 

“We _ did not _ ,” she insisted, finally letting go so that she could cross her arms. “You _ spoke _ with me today. You _ walked _ with me today. You _ looked _ at me today. But not once did you _ hang out _ with me today.”

“All of those things are part of hanging out, Hilda.” Hilda could hear the sarcasm in his voice that she was so used to hearing, but hadn’t in a while. It almost made her doubt herself, but managed to keep her head on straight. He was playing her again. 

“I’m sorry, okay? For whatever I did,” she apologized. Normally, she wasn’t one to hand out apologies unless she knew for sure that she was in the wrong (though with Holst it was hard even then), but if Claude was unwilling to spit it out, then so be it.

“You don’t know what you did wrong and you’re still willing to apologize? I give you too little credit,” Claude teased. 

“Does that mean ‘apology accepted?’”

Claude shot her a wide smile, offering his arm so that they could both get up. With his eyes closed, he pulled her up and nodded, “You did nothing wrong, but sure, apology accepted.” Maybe if he’d been willing to meet her gaze, she would have believed him. 

_ What a performance. _Apparently, her apology wasn’t going to cut it. At this rate, he would walk her back to her room, wish her goodnight, and up his game the next day to dispel any of her worries. But she knew better; he’d be holding a grudge against her the entire time. What else could she possibly say, though? 

As these thoughts swirled in Hilda’s head, Claude crouched back down to pick up everything he’d dropped earlier, namely the five or so books he’d been carrying. 

“Where were you heading to anyway, so late at night?” she asked, picking up the closest book while Claude had his back turned to her. 

“Oh, just going to return these books to the library. They’re way overdue.” 

Hilda gave an amused huff. _ Unsurprising _ . Turning the book to its spine to take a look at the title, she read, “ _ Fodlan Foreign Perspective. _”

Hilda noticed Claude visibly tense up. He turned to face her, eyeing the book she was holding as if he was aching to snatch it away. Without even trying, she’d hit a nerve. 

“What are you reading this for?” Hilda pressed. If he wasn’t going to truly forgive her anyway, why not press a few more buttons? 

“Just an interesting subject,” Claude answered, but he must have been more tired than she’d thought, because his voice cracked ever so slightly, giving him away. 

“_ Riiiight _.” She opened the book to find each page bursting with notes written in the margins. “Rather bold of you to return a book in such a state.” 

“I’m the only one who checks it out anyway,” Claude’s voice grew impatient. “Now…” He extended his arm and made a gesture with his hand, asking for the book back. 

Hilda ignored him, glancing over the notes he’d made on a section regarding Dagda: _ Nearest to Empire territory… Going to have to deal with Edelgard. _ Flipping a few pages over, _ Ambassadors needed in Duscur _, was written underneath a paragraph about the tragedy that had occurred there. 

At this point, Claude was inching forward, but Hilda needed only to take a couple steps back to keep him out of reach. This time, after skipping ahead a couple chapters, she read aloud, _ “Celebrations (parades??) in Almyra might be the best strategy for improved relations.” _

Before she could flip to another page, Claude lunged forward and snatched the book out of her hand. “_ I said I need to return these _,” he practically hissed, all acts thrown to the wind. A light scowl had replaced the smile sitting there just moments ago. He didn’t even bother saying anything as he began heading straight to the library. 

Hilda had never seen him in such a state. He was always so calm and carefree that to see him serious before had been a shock. Seeing him _ angry _, though? That was something else entirely. Now that he had dropped the act, however, there was no way that she was letting him off the hook so easily. 

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled, not caring if anyone heard. She trailed behind him, taking extra long strides to keep up with his ever-increasing speed walk. 

“Nothing!” Claude shouted back, the anger still present in his voice. At least he hadn’t gone back to trying to hide it. 

“First you almost stab me and now you’re pissed because I read your stupid book!”

“I apologized, didn’t I?” 

“Well maybe I haven’t accepted your apology yet!”

“Why not? I accepted yours!” 

“No you didn’t!” By then, the two had fallen into a steady jog. If it weren’t for all the added weight, Hilda was sure that Claude would have been able to outrun her by now. Lucky for her, he was seemingly unwilling to drop his load a second time. Before long, she was able to surpass him before reaching the stairs to the second floor. She stood right in his way, matching him move for move so that he couldn’t just step aside and continue on his way. 

“What do you _ want _, Hilda?” Claude sighed, finally stopping. 

“I _ want _ to make things right between us,” Hilda almost pleaded. “I don’t know why you’re upset with me, but I want to make it better, even if you _ did _almost stab me earlier.”

Claude drew another long sigh. Gradually, he relaxed a little, his arms slouching under the weight of the books and his knees bent slightly. “Look, I’m sorry about the dagger, okay? You just… caught me off guard.” 

“Forget the dagger. I don’t care about that right now,” Hilda killed that conversation instantly. “I want to know why you’re so angry all of a sudden. Don’t you trust me?” 

Claude’s eyes drooped a little. He hesitated, nervously scratching the back of his neck with one hand. Hilda almost thought that he’d once again avoid answering altogether, but after a while, he finally mustered, “I want to.”

Hilda wanted to feel betrayed, to feel upset with his answer. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Frankly, she didn’t care whether or not he trusted her; she just wanted her best friend back. Because yes, Claude von Riegan was her best friend, possibly her only real friend that wasn’t her brother. She’d known little outside of the Goneril manor, and though she liked her classmates at the monastery well enough, she wasn’t sure if she was willing to call them friends just yet. 

“You know what?” she began. “That’s fine. You don’t need to trust me.” 

“But?” Claude knew her too well. 

“But I miss you.” 

“You miss… me?” Hilda half-expected Claude to flash her a goofy grin, to tease her and say something like _ Awww Hilda, you do care! _ or _ Wow, I didn’t think you’d be the clingy type. _But Claude didn’t do any of that. Instead, his eyes had widened considerably, his lips pressed together tightly. “How so?”

“Seriously?”

“Won’t you humor me this once?”

Hilda rolled her eyes, but conceded. “Monastery life is such a drag without you, you know?”

At that, Claude broke his stare and gave a low chuckle. “I can imagine.”

“So? Are you willing to just go back to how things were before?”

“Hold on,” Claude shook his head. “You gotta tell me something first.” 

“What now?” 

“Tell me, Hilda,” he began, his voice lowering once more. The anger and frustration had drained from his face. Now all that was left was a stern stare. For the first time in what seemed like ages, he actually bothered to look her in the eye. His intensity was almost enough to frighten her. “Would you still say that if I were someone else?”

“Excuse me?”

“If I wasn’t Claude von Riegan.”

“Like who?” 

“Anyone.”

“I don’t see why not?”

“Even if I were from, say, Duscur?”

“Like Dedue? Probably?”

“Brigid?”

“Claude what are you getting at?” Hilda couldn’t connect the dots. This was a common occurrence when Claude got carried away, but this time it felt like the gears in her head were steaming from trying to put all the pieces together. Why was he so invested in these metaphoricals?

“Just answer.”

“Sure.”

“Almyra.”

“Yes?”

“Oh really?” Claude raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“I just find it fishy that you’d say that.”

“How so?”

“Well,” he paused. “Your family fights Almyrans all the time, right? I would’ve thought you’d say no to that one.”

He had a point. “But you’re not like them, Claude. Kinda like Cyril,” she dismissed. 

“Have you ever considered that they might all be _ not like them _?”

“Who? The Almyrans?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t get what you mean?”

“If Ashe was Almyran do you think he’d be any different?” Claude brushed off yet another one of her clarifying questions to answer with another question. Goddess, he could be a handful sometimes. 

“I suppose not?” It was hard to imagine little ol’ Ashe riding a fearsome wyvern into battle against her brother, axe swinging to and fro. She doubted a darker skin tone would cause such a drastic change in character. 

“What about Lorenz? Leonie? Annette? Dorothea?”

“I get it, I get it, okay?” Hilda paused him right there. “I still don’t see why this matters, though? The point is, I like you for _ you _, okay? You’re fun and interesting and smart. And that’s why I need this to be over with so that we can get back to the good ‘ol times, yeah?” 

“Deal,” Claude seemed mostly satisfied by her response. He brushed past Hilda, but this time waited for her to fall into step beside him. “Still, don’t trust you, though, you scamp.”

“Heh, well that goes both ways, you know, Mr. Leader Man,” Hilda replied. If the pet names were back, then maybe this episode of his was truly at an end. 

“That’s fine by me.”

“Same.” Hilda was only a quarter-lying. For now, this would be enough. She’d never needed anyone else’s approval; not her father’s, not her brother’s. For some odd reason, though, the same couldn’t be said of the Riegan heir. She wanted to reach a point where he wouldn’t ever consider pulling daggers, at least not at her. She could only hope that it wouldn’t require all that much effort. 

“Friends?” she asked, if only to calm the little part of her that still believed he was bluffing.

“I really can’t resist you, Hilda, you know that?” he laughed, this time with his eyes wide open. 

A sigh of relief. She’d succeeded, after all. “That’s what I like to hear.”

* * *

_ Well at least she doesn’t hate _me, Claude thought as he marched up the stairs that lead to the library. Hilda had caught onto his microaggressions quicker than he had anticipated. He wasn’t sure if that had been due to her being smarter than he’d thought, or him not being convincing enough, but he supposed that didn’t really matter anymore. For the time being, he was just satisfied knowing that he, at least, was in no danger of being cut down by her should she ever find out the true nature of his heritage. Her bias against Almyra overall was something that would not have been dismantled through one late night squabble, but it gave him hope that she’d get there eventually. For now, however, that would have to wait; he had some reading of his own to catch up on.

“Greetings, Tomas,” he saluted the old librarian once he’d made it to the library. “Did you find those books I left for you on the counter?” 

“I sure did,” Tomas replied sourly. “A month after they were to be returned, might I add?”

Claude pressed his hands together bashfully. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be sure to bring them back on time next time.”

“M-hm…” Tomas frowned. “So what did you need from me, exactly?” 

“Can I check them all out again?”

“You had them checked out for nearly two months and you didn’t even finish them?”

“What can I say? I’m a slow-reader!” Claude flashed his most charming of smiles. They hadn’t ever worked on Tomas before, but maybe this time would be different. 

Tomas seemed unamused, but walked over to the counter nevertheless. “You’re lucky I’m not in charge of the policy around here…” he muttered. 

“Thanks a bunch, Tomas.”

Soon enough, the books were stacked one on top of the other in a neat pile, ready for him to whisk away. All five of them. 

_ Wait. _

“Hey, Tomas?” he asked the librarian once more, peering over his pile. “You missed one. _ Fodlan Foreign Perspective _, I think?”

“Oh, that was checked out earlier this morning,” Tomas replied, already walking away. 

“Checked out? By who?” Claude fought the panic rising in his throat. 

“Believe it or not, it was that Goneril girl. It’s about time she started taking an interest in her studies…” he said, his voice fading as he made his way over to the other side of the library. 

_ Hilda, you traitorous scamp. _

He wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or acute panic. The nerves ended up manifesting themselves in a bought of silent laughter. And she had really dared ask him if he trusted her? The absolute nerve. 

Now he really hoped that he’d been correct in assuming she wouldn’t cut him down. Otherwise, she wasn’t allowed to ever question his dagger again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write ya'll. I tried my best but I feel like a few aspects of this are still rather unclear. Since it's Hilda's POV for most of it, I couldn't justify adding in some Claude things because she wouldn't know about them. That's why I have that little Claude blurb at the end to hopefully patch some things up. 
> 
> Essentially...
> 
> 1) Claude's reaction to Hilda trying to sneak up on him is caused by all the prior assassination attempts he's undergone  
2) Claude pretends to still be on Hilda's good side at the beginning because he can't risk losing her favor  
3) I've always imagined Claude to be the kind of person who just blows up when you actually get him angry. This might be a little OOC but I promise this won't be a recurring thing  
4) Just to clarify, Claude hasn't entirely absolved Hilda of her racism, but some progress has been made, and he's currently content with the fact that her view of him won't change and that she genuinely enjoys him for him regardless of who he is  
5) Trust issues galore; don't worry, they'll get around them eventually
> 
> I'm considering writing this same chapter in Claude's POV too just to bring everything together, but idk, lemme know what you think. Until next time!


	4. "I won’t let them next time, I promise."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda gets a letter from her brother to go help take down some Almyran invaders. Everyone has mixed feelings about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it's been a while. Sorry ya'll, school keeps me busy, but I promise I haven't forgotten about this fic. I WILL finish it, mark my words. I might have big gaps in between, but it shall be completed, promise.

Claude was Almyran. She _ could _be wrong, technically, but Hilda was lazy, not stupid. The notes on the book she’d checked out from the library were far too specific for him not to be. She had been reading bits and pieces of it every night, right after her and Claude’s daily gossip sessions in her room. They were both aware that she had the book, but she kept it well-hidden under the floorboards beneath her bed (Caspar had been a great help in having that arranged). Neither one of them had even brought it up yet, and she suspected it would remain that way for a while.

Considering the Alliance’s relationship with Almyra, she wasn’t all that surprised that he’d wanted to keep it a secret. She’d been aware of the rumors that followed the Riegan heir like persistent bees. Lorenz had dropped the subject for a while now, but the other Alliance students were still quick to whisper and snicker whenever he passed them by. Hilda had offered to shut them up on several occasions, but Claude had been insistent that she not fuel the fire. It hadn’t occurred to her that the rumors were true, even if only slightly. 

_ He probably thinks either Holst or I will chop him down _, she’d realized one night, book sprawled open on her lap. Of course, neither she nor her brother would ever dream of ending the Riegan line, but how many Almyrans had her brother killed? Had any of them been related to Claude? Had he become a war orphan like Cyril? Was that the reason he’d suddenly shown up in the Alliance? 

Hilda’s list of questions only became more lengthy and convoluted as the left side of the book grew heftier with each page turned. That said, it was obvious that Claude wanted this secret kept, and though he was smart enough to understand that she already knew, she wouldn’t ever confirm it, no matter how badly she wanted answers. What good would it do anyway? They were back to normal, weren’t they? Best not to risk it. 

That said, maybe she _ should _have paid attention to the rumors. It would have explained a lot: his peculiar hairstyle, his darker complexion, the stories he told about his family (she should’ve known that no Fodlan noble would ever let their child get dragged around by a horse). More importantly, it explained why he refused so ardently to accompany the rest of the class to Fodlan’s Throat. 

“My brother sent for me,” she’d told him. “The Almyrans are attacking Fodlan’s Locket and he wants my help.”

“Oh?” Claude had raised an eyebrow, leaning against his door frame. “And he needs… you?” 

Hilda had sighed. “Apparently.” Maybe she should have left it at that, but memories of their back-to-back victories in the mock battle and Battle of the Eagle and Lion compelled her to continue. Though being on the battlefield wasn’t something she particularly enjoyed (at least, not in the way that Felix and Caspar did), she felt oddly at ease with Claude around. It was as if nothing would be able to hit her so long as he was near. That had been true when they’d faced Lonato’s insurrection, and again when they had taken down Miklan and his gang of bandits. So far, her only battle wound had been the one he’d given her a few weeks ago. 

“Do… you want to come? The Professor is letting the rest of the Golden Deer tag along.” 

Claude had shaken his head then. “I’m… not feeling too good actually. I might have accidentally taken some of my latest batch of poison,” he had semi-coughed, hands clutching his stomach even though they’d been hanging loosely by his sides only moments before. “I hope that’s alright?”

Hilda hadn’t pressed it further. Of course he wouldn’t want to go fight his brethren. Even though Cyril was coming, he had made it explicitly clear that he wasn’t there to fight; he was there to defend Almyran children. She’d have to apologize to him later; though she hadn’t ever been tended to by Almyran servants, she was aware that her father and uncles often were. She’d never questioned them before, but after listening to Cyril, that no longer held true. Cyril was too good a kid to have had to go through that...

“No problem, hope you feel better soon,” she’d leaned over and kissed Claude’s cheek goodnight. He’d smiled and done the same, but even then he shut his door a little too hard. 

As such, the journey to Goneril territory was a lonely one. Sure, she had her other classmates around, but Leonie was too busy chastising Lorenz, and Marianne and Ignatz weren’t big talkers. Trying to get anything through Raphael’s head was borderline impossible, and Lysithea often became frustrated with Hilda’s “basic” topics of conversation. 

As much as she dreaded the fighting that awaited her, Hilda was also eager to get it over and done with for once. Even_ if _ all Almyrans were as wonderful as Claude, that didn’t change the fact that _ they _had been the ones to start invading. Maybe she would see those soldiers differently now, but she would have to kill them regardless. 

The thought sent shivers down her entire being, noticeable enough for Marianne to notice, though she refrained from saying anything. If Claude were there, he would have comforted her. Goddess, if Claude didn’t want to fight, that was fine, but couldn’t he have at least offered to walk her over? 

* * *

Claude noticed the Professor before he noticed anyone else. As calm as ever, they had presumably been walking back to their quarters before Claude caught up to them. 

“Teach! You all back already?” he asked. 

They nodded, shooting Claude one of their signature easy smiles. “Everyone’s back safe.”

“Ah, well that’s a relief.” Claude stood by his choice to stay behind, but he would have been lying if he didn’t admit that he’d spent a fair share of his weekend worrying over his classmates. It wasn’t like there was much else to do with them all gone anyway. “Anything notable I should know about?” He considered asking about the Almyran losses too, but decided against it; that would’ve been too obvious for such a smart Professor. 

The Professor paused, as if to think it over, then reached behind them to pull out a long weapon. Claude couldn’t see too well with it being so dark outside, but the stray candles and torches around were enough for him to recognize it as an axe. Granted, he couldn’t be entirely sure, as it was rather peculiar in shape, with spikes jutting out at odd angles throughout.

“What’s that?” he asked, moving closer to get a better look. It was at times like these where he wished Lysithea were around. If she weren’t so afraid of ghosts, she would make a good torch. 

“Hilda’s brother supposedly gave it to her.” The Professor swung it once, causing a red glow to emanate from a stone that he hadn’t noticed below. 

_ “Holst gave Hilda Freikugel?” _ Claude asked, forgetting to breathe for a few seconds. He’d never seen the weapon in person, but he’d heard plenty of stories about its power from when he’d been living in House Riegan. 

The Professor nodded once more, slinging the axe back onto their back. 

Hoping that he wouldn’t sound too accusatory, he asked, “Then why do _ you _have it?” 

“She said she found it gross and wouldn’t be able to properly wield it properly,” the Professor replied. “She said I should keep it in the meantime.” 

“Ah.” Claude abandoned all previous thoughts of a library trip. “You wouldn’t consider letting me give it a go sometime?” Claude was only half joking. Though he held no particular ill will towards his grandfather, he sometimes wished the old man would go ahead and kick the bucket already. The Riegan head refused to give up Failnaught until he was buried ten feet under, despite Claude’s best efforts. With that sort of power, Claude would be leagues ahead of where he was now. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that he lacked a Goneril crest, or more importantly, any sort of axe skill. 

The Professor was either joke-deaf or chose to save him the embarrassment, because they only laughed. 

“Well, goodnight, Teach,” Claude cut the conversation short. “I’m sure you must be tired.”

With that, the Professor waved goodbye and, once they were outside Claude’s field of vision, Claude doubled back and sprinted to Hilda’s room. If she had really inherited Freikugel, then he had to make sure that it was put to good use. It would still be years before he could reach that level, but Hilda’s wait was over and she was throwing it all away. It was time to put his smooth-talking to the test. 

“Hilda?” he knocked on her door. Though she’d be able to tell who it was by the sound of his voice, he still went ahead and used their secret doorknock. 

“Ughhhhhhh,” Hilda’s voice resonated from inside. 

_ Shit. _He hadn’t considered the time. Of course she would be resting after a battle. Still, no time to waste. Besides, she couldn’t say no to her dear Claude, right?

Sure enough, she opened the door, albeit in her nightgown and her hair loose. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but his cheeks flushed nevertheless. “Can I come in?” 

Hilda rolled her eyes, but stepped aside. With a slight bow, Claude walked in, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. Hilda followed close behind, eyes drooping, but otherwise not horribly angry with him, it seemed. 

“What do you want? I know you want something.” Hilda got straight to the point. 

“You wound me,” Claude teased. 

“Claude, c’mon, I’m tired.”

Fine then. “I heard Holst gave you Freikugel.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Hilda leaned back so that her neck pressed against the bed frame. “I tried convincing him out of it, but if there’s anyone more insistent than he is, I’ve yet to meet them.” 

“Why the disappointment, though? You have a _ hero’s relic _now!”

“Did you see that thing? The way it pulsated like that? I swear that thing is made of bones,” said Hilda, sticking out her tongue at that last sentence. 

Claude tried hiding his frustration. Didn’t she realize just how lucky she was? Hilda had always been a spoiled brat at heart, but he’d let it slide on most occasions. He’d been just as insufferable when he was a kid, so he’d figured that she’d grow out of it eventually. Maybe he had overestimated her, though. “You have to admit that it’s pretty cool, though.”

“I don’t see anything cool about it,” Hilda muttered, looking away and crossing her arms. 

Claude wasn’t going to let her go that easily. Hilda’s crocodile tears could work wonders, but not on him. “Don’t you understand how strong Freikugel would make you? I don’t see why you handed it over so easily to Teach-” 

“I can’t use that thing!” Hilda interrupted. “That’s that! Okay?” At that point, she turned her back to him, bringing her knees up to her chin.

“Oh, c’mon, Hilda,” Claude began to lose patience. It was hard to make him mad, but it seemed that Hilda was the sole exception. He could argue with Lorenz for hours without losing his temper, but it had taken Hilda a matter of minutes. “You’re being silly!”

“I would just mess up if I tried using it,” Hilda insisted. 

“We both know you can kick serious ass. Don’t undermine yourself.”

“I’m a delicate flower.”

“Hilda-”

“I don’t want to use it!” Hilda burst, only to flinch. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Claude paused his berating. Hilda was still facing the other way, but he heard her breath hitch.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hilda replied, but didn’t face back around. 

Claude crawled over to her other side to take a closer look. She was slowly bending her left arm back and forth, wincing every so often. 

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Claude asked, crouching down and reaching for her arm. She pulled away, only to flinch again. “Hilda, c’mon…”

“I guess there’s no hiding anything from you, huh?” she conceded. She leaned forward and let him inspect her arm. Claude ran his hands over it, but found no obvious injuries. 

“Marianne healed me pretty quickly afterwards, so there’s no scar,” Hilda explained. “But an Almyran soldier managed a nasty hit before I finished him off. Guess Marianne wasn’t able to fully patch me up in the heat of battle, so it still hurts a little.” 

“Goddess, Hilda.” Claude gave her back her arm. “You should go check in with Professor Manuela.”

“I didn’t want to bother her so late. Besides, it only hurts if I move it too much.”

“I should’ve been there to keep you safe,” Claude lamented, dropping all talk of Freikugel.

“Claude, don’t blame yourself for this. You were… sick. It couldn’t be helped.”

She knew. That much was obvious. She was always so good at following his lead, and even now she was sticking to it. Even so… “Geez, I’m always getting you hurt, though, aren’t I?” he half-laughed, trying to lighten the mood. 

“You’ll be the death of me, von Riegan,” Hilda laughed back. 

“I sure hope not.”

“It was scary, though, you know?” she sighed, leaning up against him with her uninjured arm. “Enemies have never gotten so close to me before.”

“I won’t let them next time, I promise,” Claude leaned up against her as well, breathing in the smell of her hair. The brat had bothered making a stop at the spa before going to bed, judging by the smell. He liked to think it was because she was getting less lazy, but she probably had just wanted to get the blood smell out. 

“I’m sure you will,” she said. “And you’re _ way _better than any old hero’s relic.” 

“I don’t know, Freikugel would still make you an absolute powerhouse. I bet you’d look super hot wielding it.” 

Hilda shoved against him playfully. “I’m _ always _hot, you bastard!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he smiled. “You really are.”

“But I’m serious about not being ready to use Freikugel,” Hilda repeated. “If I can forgive you for not coming along, you can forgive me for not using it, right?”

“Fine, I guess you’re right.” And he’d told himself that he wouldn’t let Hilda win this time. He’d called himself a tough nut to crack, but so far Hilda had done nothing but crack him open time after time. “You gotta go to Manuela’s first thing in the morning, though.”

“Carry me?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like this is more of a filler chapter, but there's some important stuff in it so... take it as you will. Next time, prepare for some ball shenanigans.


	5. "To our eternal friendship, Mister von Riegan.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Considering Claude's love of parties, Hilda would have thought he'd be more excited about the upcoming ball. As it turns out, he isn't; not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... quarantine, amirite? 
> 
> Needless to say, I definitely meant to update way sooner, but school kept getting in the way. Now that I've moved out of college and classes have been moved online though, I've got much more free time on my hands. As such, I finally got around to finishing this (it's been sitting in my Google Docs for MONTHS). 
> 
> I promised I'd finish this, and I intend to follow through with that. Here's to hoping the next update doesn't take nearly as long!
> 
> PS. This has been canon-compliant thus far, but I slightly changed one thing so that it fit into the story better. You'll notice when you see it. Also, spoilers for the ball chapter of Golden Deer, but not any big ones.

Hilda would have assumed, of all people, that Claude would be thrilled at the idea of a ball. _ He’d _ been the one to suggest a feast after the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. _ He’d _been the one to stuff his face and dance like a drunkard back then. After the awful business undergone in Remire, a physically and emotionally drained student body seemed to her the perfect excuse for a fun night out. Yet, his enthusiasm (if there was any to begin with) had yet to show its face. Just her luck too; the one time she was excited about something, Claude couldn’t care less. At the very least, he’d promised her he’d go. 

Regardless, Hilda wouldn’t let Claude ruin her fun. She couldn’t think of a better way to impress so many guys in such a short amount of time. 

“What do you think?” she asked Claude as she sat in front of her mirror, holding her hair up in a single ponytail. “Up?” She let go of her hair to let it fall down her back. “Or down?” 

“Does it matter? You look good either way.” One quick peek behind her was enough for Hilda to conclude that Claude hadn’t even taken a look at her. Ever since finding that ‘Immaculate One’ note in the library, his face hardly felt a ray of sunshine. Day in and day out, it was stuck between the pages of whatever Church of Seiros mythos book he’d uncovered that morning. 

“Claude!” she reprimanded. She climbed atop her bed and waved her hand over his face. “I need your full cooperation here.”

Claude rolled his eyes, but finally turned to her. “Look, Hilda, we both know I’m drop-dead gorgeous and thus the top authority on these matters, so you should trust me when I say it doesn’t matter.”

“But which one makes it look like I tried, but not too much?”

“That wasn’t the original question.”

“Answer it, will ya?”

Claude turned his attention back to his book. “Boys will be clamoring to dance with you either way.”

“That’s besides the point!” Hilda snatched the book away and threw it across the room. 

“Hey!” Claude frowned. Still, he didn’t immediately go pick it up, meaning Hilda had won for the time being. 

“You should be just as excited for this ball as I am!” she said. “Why aren’t you?”

Claude sighed. “Hilda, no matter what you do, you’ll have a line of students begging to dance with you. No matter what _ I _do, I’ll be stuck dancing by myself.”

“That’s ridiculous!” The idea of her charismatic, handsome Claude standing alone in the middle of the ballroom floor almost made Hilda laugh. It simply wasn’t possible. “You said it yourself! You’re drop-dead gorgeous. The top authority!”

“And yet, I’m far from popular.” 

He had a point; even among their housemates, there were several who took every chance to undermine his authority. Hushed chatter and whispers were commonplace whenever he walked through the halls. For the longest time, Hilda had thought it all harmless gossip or romantic rumors (as must surely accompany any house leader). Since finding out the truth, however, she knew better. That said, to claim that Claude had _ no _friends was nothing short of ridiculous. 

“Let’s change that then!” Her eager hands pulled him from where he’d attempted to make a dash for his book. Before he could protest, she pushed him into the nearest chair. 

“Hilda-”

“Nuh, uh, sit still.” Hilda picked up the brush she’d been using and began working it through his tangled locks. Claude winced as she pulled his hair back, but he didn’t complain. 

“Here, untie this for me, will ya?” Hilda pushed his braid into his face a couple times before he gave in. She swiftly got to work untangling every lock and smoothing it all out with her brush. There was no way she’d be able to use that brush after what it had seen, but she had plenty more, so she didn’t mind all that much. 

“Ta-da!” Hilda clapped her hands together at the final result. 

She’d styled his hair completely back. Though a few strands fell out of place near his forehead, it was a far cry from the usual mop atop his head. It did look a little odd, seeing as she’d never seen his hair in any other state, but it didn’t look bad. Far from it, in fact. 

“You really look like the future leader of the Alliance like this, don’t you think?” Hilda squeezed his shoulders. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess I do.” Claude squinted at himself in the mirror.

“You hate it.”

Claude twitched. “I didn’t say that.” 

“You’re being defensive.” Hilda crossed her arms. “It’s okay if you don’t like it, really.”

“No, no, it looks great, Hilda.” Claude smiled at her through the mirror, trying to prove his point further by running his hands through his hair and whistling as if he were checking himself out. 

“Fine, if you like it so much, come back before the ball and I can do it all over again just before we leave,” Hilda dared. 

“Okay, fine,” Claude said. His hands started messing with his hair the moment he stood up. He could have at least waited until he left.

Hilda could only hope he’d outgrow this fussiness once he _ did _ become head of the Alliance. 

* * *

“I had stable duty earlier and accidentally fell asleep on some hay.” That’s what Claude had gone with when he knocked on Hilda’s door the night of the ball. They had agreed to meet in her room an hour ago, but of course, he’d never shown up. He’d undoubtedly been reading in a dark corner of the monastery before the sun set. 

“Well, it’s too late for me to do anything about it, I guess,” was Hilda’s response. She had secretly hoped he’d show up, but it wasn’t as if she’d spent her time doing nothing either. She’d been rather busy with her own preparations. She had tied her hair into a neat bun on the top of her head, making the sparkling earrings hanging from her ears hard to miss. 

“Huh, I don’t recognize these,” Claude said, poking one with his finger. 

Hilda smirked. “That’s because I made them myself! It’s a little bit of a hobby of mine.” 

“I’ll have to order a pair myself some time, then.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Hilda shrugged. “I normally don’t do business with flakes.”

“I should’ve expected that.” Claude offered his arm out for her to take. 

Hilda rolled her eyes, but took it nevertheless. “Make sure not to ruin this for me Mister von Riegan.”

“I hear ya.” Claude gave his archer’s salute. 

The two arrived at the reception hall fashionably late. The long wooden tables had been pushed to the sides to leave more space for the dancefloor. A few brave students had already begun dancing, but most were too busy partaking in some light refreshments. 

“There you two are!” Leonie swooped in like a hawk as soon as they were within view. “You’re late!”

“Not late enough,” Claude said, earning him a sharp prod from Hilda’s elbow. 

“As you can tell, Claude here is being difficult,” Hilda replied. 

“Well, c’mon, the rest of the Golden Deer are over by the punch.” Leonie led the pair towards their other classmates. 

Lorenz sulked against the wall, while Lysithea and Marianne sat on a bench. Pastry after pastry disappeared down Lysithea’s throat, and both Marianne and Ignatz watched in surprise as Raphael cheered her on. Typical deer. 

“What’s got you so down, Lorenz?” Claude teased.

“Not now, Claude,” Lorenz bit back. 

“Oh, c’mon now!” Claude pressed. “Something’s bothering you.”

“I do not wish to speak of it.” Lorenz turned his face away, his scowl only growing longer. 

Leonie said, “He’s just upset he hasn’t gotten anyone to dance with him yet.”

Claude opened his mouth, no doubt to tease Lorenz further, but Lorenz covered it up with his hand before he could get a single sound out. “I do not wish to speak of it!”

“Okay, that’s it!” Leonie took hold of Lorenz’ arm and began pulling him away. “I’ll dance with you. That should get you out of this funk of yours, right?” 

“Leonie’s got the right idea.” Hilda led Claude onto the dancefloor as Lorenz was dragged away, spluttering something or other about commoners and the nobility. 

“I didn’t agree to dance,” Claude objected. 

“Don’t pretend like you hate dancing; I know you don’t.”

“I don’t hate dancing, but I hate _ this _kind of dancing.” Spurred on by the new bodies on the dancefloor, a handful of other students began spilling in. 

“Do you not know how?” Hilda challenged. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Claude pulled her closer, one arm holding her by her waist, the other holding onto her other hand. 

“Touche.” Hilda took the lead, sticking to a close circle so as not to bump into the other students. “Why then?” 

Claude took back the lead, twirling her around like a natural. He’d obviously taken lessons at some point. As the Riegan heir, that wasn’t too surprising. With his head, he motioned to the left. 

Hilda peered in said direction before he spun her around again. A few pairs of students were staring at them, whispering to each other as they glided by. 

“I bet they find it suspicious that I can dance so well,” Claude whispered in Hilda’s ear. 

“Ignore them.” Hilda led him a little ways away, still dancing. “They’re just jealous.”

“Why would that be?” Claude raised an eyebrow. 

“You got the first dance with me, of course!” Hilda smiled. 

That got Claude riled up. Hilda yelped as he grabbed a hold of her waist and picked her up. “Might as well give them a show, no?”

Hilda hadn’t ever danced with such a bold partner, but she couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy it. She went along with his progressively wilder and wilder moves, basking in the attention they were getting as those around them gradually stopped to watch them perform. 

“You can’t say this isn’t fun, right?” Hilda prompted before being slipped between Claude’s legs. 

“Well, when it’s with you, how can I deny it?” He smiled one of those smiles Hilda had seen him give only to the Professor. Maybe they weren’t as exclusive as she had feared.

An extra hand on her shoulder stopped her from performing the next twirl. Claude’s smile faded back into his typical one, and Hilda didn’t even need to turn around to realize why. 

“Must I remind you two that this ball is not meant for troupe performances?” Seteth’s voice rang clearly in Hilda’s ear. 

“Sorry, Seteth, just got a little carried away,” said Claude with a wink. “You know how us students get sometimes.”

“I am well aware.” Seteth pushed the two apart with a gentle shove. “Just know that this is your only warning.” 

“O-of course!” Hilda nodded. Seteth was no Ferdinand; it was best to just go along with what he said. 

Seteth nodded once more before leaving the two to their own devices. The students who had been watching them gradually returned to their own dancing. 

“Not even a single clap, eh? Guess we aren’t such hot stuff, you and I,” Claude said. 

“Speak for yourself!” Hilda playfully slapped his chest. 

“Well, guess we’re back to square zero, then?” Claude reached for her once more. 

Hilda pulled away. “Nuh, uh. You’ve had me for long enough. It’s basic etiquette to switch partners throughout the night and you haven’t let anyone else have a turn.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Have fun.”

“That goes for you too, you know!” Hilda called out before moving deeper into the pit of students to find her next partner. She doubted any of them would be nearly as fun, but the dances would surely serve to get favors out of the young lads later down the line. 

At least she no longer needed to worry about Claude; after that performance, there was no way he’d be left alone tonight. 

* * *

Dancing with the Professor was the natural choice. If there was anyone he knew wouldn’t turn him down, it would be the Professor. He’d been right, of course. He didn’t even have to say anything before taking their hand and leading them to the dance floor. They’d seemed to enjoy themselves, so after the dance was done and the Professor moved on to speak with the other faculty, Claude called it a night. 

Hilda would get pissed at him later for leaving, but it would only be temporary. The company was half the fun of any party, and when students kept avoiding him like the plague, he didn’t see the point in staying. A feast like the one after the Battle of Eagle and Lion was easy to enjoy thanks to the loud music and bundles of food, but a night full of fancy dancing and little bite-sized morsels wasn’t nearly as appealing. 

He’d considered forcing Lorenz to allow him a dance, but the last he’d seen of him, Raphael had been forcing snacks into him left and right. Instead, he opted to hole himself up in his room the rest of the night. If time allowed him, he’d get to the bottom of this Immaculate One business tonight.

As it turned out, time did not. 

A knock at his door interrupted his reading. Claude knew who it would be before opening the door. An angry Hilda stood before him, tapping her foot on the ground with arms crossed and lips pouted. 

“Thought you could slip away, huh?”

Claude kept it brief. “I’m not a fan of these ball things so I figured I’d just leave.”

“Did you even _ try _to dance with anyone else?” 

“I danced with the Professor.” 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“Well _ I _beg to differ,” Claude said. If it had been anyone but Hilda, he would have closed the door on them. He’d already tried avoiding her once though, and if there was any way of preventing a repeat, he would bear it out.

Disapproval emanated from Hilda’s being as she continued, “No one else?” 

“No?”

“Why?”

“Look, no one _ actually _ wants to dance with me, Hilda. Not until those rumors stop circulating, which doesn’t seem to be anytime soon.” _ Not until Fodlan changes for the better, _he wanted to add, but refrained from doing so. 

“But that’s not true!” Hilda protested. “Do you know why I realized you were gone?” 

Claude could have come up with a multitude of explanations. He hadn’t been purposefully trying to keep anyone off his tail, after all. He kept quiet, however; maybe if he didn’t interrupt, this conversation would end quicker. 

“Because Leonie asked for you!” she shouted. “She wanted to dance with you!” 

Claude raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t she? She’s your friend, right?” 

“I didn’t think she was, to be honest.” _ Goddess, I shouldn’t have said that. _

“Are you serious? You’re her friend!”

Claude leaned against his doorframe. Now he was in for a lecture. “I’m her house leader.”

“But don’t you care for her?”

“Of course I do. I care for all the Golden Deer.” 

“Then why is it so hard to believe that they care for you too?”

Claude once again opted for silence. He’d learned long ago that one could care boatloads for someone only for them to think nothing of you. If any of his siblings or subjects had shown him even a sliver of the affection Holst held for Hilda, maybe he could believe her.

“Tell me, Claude,” Hilda pressed. “What am I to you?”

Claude blinked. _ A tool. An excuse to get closer to your brother. A pawn that can be used to open Fodlan’s Throat. _ It surprised Claude just how much his thoughts made him want to puke. _ That’s new. _

He’d already admitted to himself he enjoyed spending time with Hilda, the same way he had once looked forward to sparring with Nader or going horseback riding with his parents. He’d be willing to concede friendship in her case, but the other Golden Deer? Lorenz’ attempt to hide his true feelings towards Claude were meager at best, and Claude’s teasing had already brought Lysithea to the brink of burning him alive. Maybe he could count Raphael, but the brunt would accept a dinner invitation from practically anyone. The rest were just being polite, right? 

Realizing Hilda expected an answer from him, he truthfully replied, “My friend.” 

“Wrong.”

“Huh?” Claude blinked. “Wasn’t that-”

“What I _ wanted _ to hear was that I am your _ best _friend,” Hilda corrected.

“That’s awfully pretentious of you.” 

“Look, if you’re so insistent you have no friends other than myself, then I’m your best friend by default. That’s just a fact.” 

Claude chuckled. “I guess you have a point.” 

Of course, Hilda wouldn’t be satisfied with just that. “You know, that only means you’re in quite a predicament.” 

“What kind of predicament?”

“If something were to happen to me, you don’t have anyone to take over as your best friend!” 

“Hilda, this is one convoluted tangent you’re going on.” 

“It’s the only thing that works with you!” Hilda stomped her foot. 

Looking back, Claude supposed she had a point.

“You know what? Just come with me, will you?” Hilda took his arm and began hauling him away so fast that Claude only barely managed to kick his door shut with the end of his foot.

“If you plan on taking me back to the ball, you can count me out,” Claude said. “You can’t keep me there.” 

“I think I’m in the clear, then.” 

Sure enough, Hilda swerved away from the reception hall before long, instead heading in the direction of the Officer’s Academy. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be so pushy about going to school,” he teased. 

Hilda didn’t reply, only pushed him into the Golden Deer classroom once they were close enough. To Claude’s surprise, a handful of Golden Deer were gathered there. Lysithea, Marianne, and Lorenz were lighting the torches along the walls with their magic, whilst Leonie, Raphael, and Ignatz waited in the center of the classroom. Even Cyril, who had recently been joining in on certain classes, was there, sitting quietly at one of the tables. 

“Oh, good you brought him!” Leonie said once she noticed their arrival. “Claude, I was looking for you!”

“Were you now?”

“It’s about time,” Lysithea complained, lighting the last torch and putting her fire out. “If Seteth catches us here, we’re dead meat.”

“Relax, he’s too busy at the ball.” Leonie patted Lysithea’s shoulder as she passed her by. “Now, Claude, you owe me a dance.” 

“Here?” 

Leonie nodded. “Naturally. You left because others were making you uncomfortable, right? You don’t have to worry about that here.”

“Besides,” Raphael cut in, “this way you can dance however you like without Seteth ruining the fun!”

“You watched?” Claude asked. 

“It was hard not to,” said Ignatz. 

_ You were taking up the whole dancefloor. It was a huge distraction. _Claude braced himself for another biting remark. He would have to come up with a lighthearted comeback, of course, and then-

“It looked like you two were having lots of fun,” Ignatz finished with a shy smile. 

“Oh.” Claude let out a breath. This was Ignatz talking, how had he been able to assume the worst in a meek guy like that? 

“Truth be told, I was kind of hoping you’d teach me a little?” Ignatz continued. “I was never really taught to dance, you see…”

“I think Lysithea mentioned something about wanting to be thrown earlier too,” Raphael interrupted. 

Though the lighting wasn’t the best, Claude noticed Lysithea’s cheeks turn pink. “I did not!” 

“So you all came here to dance with _ me? _” Claude asked. 

“Why else?” Leonie said, offering Claude her hand. 

Claude could practically feel Hilda’s smugness from behind him. Well, he supposed maybe she’d been right after all. He’d underestimated Fodlan before, after all. 

“Well _ I’m _only here because I apparently cannot be trusted not to tell,” Lorenz spoke up. He’d already taken a seat beside Cyril, observing the ends of his fingertips. “Personally, I want no part in this.” 

Correction: _ partially _underestimated. 

“C’mon, Lorenz, don’t be shy!” Claude temporarily left Leonie hanging and pulled Lorenz to his feet instead. 

“Goddess, please no,” Lorenz protested, but Claude was already busy spinning him around with extra force. 

“Hey, I was first in line!” Leonie called out.

It wasn’t long before everyone was in motion. Raphael threw Ignatz into the air, and Leonie improvised a dance with Hilda while she waited her turn with Claude. Cyril tried his best not to step on Lysithea’s feet while Marianne kept watch at the door. She too was eventually pulled into the fray, though. The music from the reception hall could barely be heard above all the ruckus they were making, but no one seemed to care all that much. 

“I thought you said that switching partners was good etiquette?” he asked Hilda when they ended up in each other’s arms again amidst the chaos. 

“Don’t worry, I got my fair share in before I went to fetch you. Don’t let it get to your head.”

“My head? Never.” 

Among all the noise, it was easy to understand how the Professor had managed to slip into the classroom. Claude only realized they were there when Cyril cleared his throat suspiciously loudly. 

“Professor,” Marianne said, partially hidden behind Raphael. 

“What are you all doing in here?” the Professor asked. Luckily, it seemed they had come alone; no sign of Seteth anywhere. That meant it was possible to get out of this mess peacefully. 

“Don’t worry, Teach, we were just taking a break from the ball,” Claude explained. “Too stuffy for our liking.”

“I suppose it is a lot to take in…” The Professor paused. “But why here? All students should remain by the reception hall or in their dorms.”

“Well, with the year coming to a close soon, we just wanted to spend some time together, you know?” Claude had said that as an excuse, but it made him realize he was right. Only a few more months before they all graduated and went their own separate ways. 

_ Separate. _Though Claude had looked forward to making connections at the Academy and then taking advantage of them upon graduating to make his dream a reality, so far he’d done a pretty crummy job. He’d only managed to land in the good graces of a handful of Leicester commoners, and the nobles in his house either had no interest in him or their own titles. By all means, this year hadn’t panned out the way he had hoped. As weird as it sounded, though, he was by no means disappointed. Shame that he’d have to leave everyone behind in due time...

“Everyone! Listen up,” Claude called the group together. “To no one’s surprise, I have a brilliant idea. Teach, you’ll want in on this too.”

“What’s your idea?” the Professor asked. 

“This may sound impetuous. Perhaps irresponsible. Almost certainly impossible. But we’re gonna do it anyway.” Claude paused, hoping he wouldn’t regret this proposal. Looking at his classmates gathered like this for his sake, however, his doubts cleared away. “In exactly five years’ time, let’s promise to meet again, right here at the monastery.”

“A reunion? There’s usually food at reunions. Count me in, Claude!” Raphael agreed. 

“Five years from now… will be the monastery’s millenium festival, celebrating 1,000 years since the founding of Garreg Mach,” Marianne pointed out. 

“I hear the millenium festival will be the largest celebration in the monastery’s history,” Ignatz said. 

“Oh, I get it!” said Hilda. “It’ll be easier for us to all get back here with the millenium festival as an excuse.” That thought hadn’t even crossed Claude’s mind, but he’d run with it. He guessed Hilda was trying to spare him the embarrassment. 

Lorenz nodded. “How true. As the new leader of the Alliance, I will certainly have occasion to attend and pay my respects to Lady Rhea.”

Lysithea shot him a questioning look. “That almost certainly will not transpire.”

“And you, Teach?” Claude steered the conversation back. “I guess it’s hard to imagine that you’ll still be teaching here five years from now… But I’m sure no matter where you end up, you’ll come running at the chance to see your adorable little Golden Deer again, right?”

“Probably so,” the Professor conceded with a smile. Claude couldn’t imagine another reaction from them. 

“Ahem… That was your cue to promise everyone you’ll return. Go on, set a good example, Teach. If you promise, everyone else will, too.”

Lysithea laughed. “I’m really excited! After five years, we’ll all be whoever we’re going to become!” 

“Please, Professor! Invite Captain Jeralt too!” Leonie said. “I want to show him how well his apprentice turns out.”

“It’s settled then! What do you say, Claude? Is it official?” Hilda poked him in the ribs. Claude caught on to what she meant. He nodded in her direction. _ Yeah, you’re all my friends. _

“The promise is sealed!” he announced. “That means we’re all obligated to keep it. Five years from today, all of us will meet again at the monastery. Don’t forget it, Teach. You and I will meet here again…”

_ We all will. _

* * *

The Professor let them off easy, just sending them all back to either the ball or their rooms. Most opted to call it a night, with the exception of Leonie and Lorenz, who refused to go to bed until he’d had a “proper” dance. 

“Don’t think it’s over for you yet, Claude,” Hilda whispered to him as they exited the classroom. “I’ve got one last surprise in store.” 

Seeing as he wasn’t going to get any more reading done that night anyway, he humored her. With a silent nod to the Gatekeeper, she led Claude to the staircase leading up to the Goddess Tower. 

“I didn’t think you were the superstitious type,” Claude said. 

“Me? Please.” Hilda began climbing the stairs. “I’ve got my reasons.”

Claude followed her. “Yeah, well whatever those reasons are… I’ve got to admit, Hilda, you were right this time. Thanks. Seriously.”

“What can I say? Your best friend has a way with these sorts of things, don’t you think?” Hilda winked as they reached the top. “Still, you can hold your thanks for now.”

“Now, now, Hilda.” Claude deepened his voice for dramatic effect. “Now that I have so many pals, you are no longer guaranteed the _ best friend _title.”

“Really? I wouldn’t be so quick to say so.” As she said that, she disappeared behind one of the columns. Soon afterwards, she emerged holding a couple of bottles.

“Wine?” Claude asked.

Hilda winked before handing him one. “I blackmailed Balthus into sharing some of his stash. Apparently he’s got some pretty decent stuff.”

“With his spending habits, I’m surprised he even has a stash.” 

“My thoughts exactly, but I’m not complaining.”

“I suppose you’re right. I must say, I’m impressed, _ best friend. _”

“Ah, I knew that would convince you.” Hilda sat down against the wall. 

“Why the Goddess Tower, though?” Claude asked.

“I thought you’d like the novelty of it all.”

Drinking wine overlooking Garreg Mach under a starry sky… it was as cheesy as it could get. Of course Claude loved it. He pulled out his dagger and popped off the cork to each bottle, taking a seat beside Hilda after doing so. He held his bottle up to the air. 

“Oh, is a toast in order?” Hilda held her own bottle up.

Claude nodded. “To our eternal friendship, Miss Goneril.”

“To our eternal friendship, Mister von Riegan.”

Funny. He hadn’t yet downed his first sip, but Claude already felt warm inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I changed the proposal of the 5-year reunion from before the ball to after, just so that Claude's arc made sense. Doesn't really change anything going forward, just wanted to make that clear. The rest of the story should be canon-compliant as intended. 
> 
> Also, it was recently revealed in a translated interview that Claude likely has multiple half-siblings, so that's why they are mentioned. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and until next time!


	6. "I’m not intending on dying for anyone else."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda and Claude are assigned flight watch duty. Chad Claude offers to help virgin Hilda get the hang of this flying thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a few months, I am back! I'm officially done with the school year, and since summer is essentially cancelled with no job or internship in sight, I'm gonna have a lot of free time on my hands (too much, I dare say). Do expect updates more often. Since Hilclaude week on Twitter is coming up in a couple weeks, I promise to update at least once between the 7th and 13th. Next chapter will be the last that takes place during the Academy phase of the story. 
> 
> For this chapter, TW for vomiting (once, but probably worth mentioning). Also, spoilers for chapter 9-11 of White Clouds near the beginning, but I'm assuming everyone's completed the game at least once at this point. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Unpleasant. If there was a word Claude would have used to describe what he’d expected his time at the Officer’s Academy to be like, he would have chosen _ unpleasant. _ He’d anticipated the rumors, the distrust, the overall lack of companionship. He’d already prepared himself for that reality well before his arrival. Of course, things hadn’t panned out in the exact ways he’d anticipated. On one hand, he’d made a handful of close friends and was currently enjoying himself more than he’d ever admit. On the other hand, his Professor’s father had just been murdered in cold blood by a shapeshifting student, and said Professor had supposedly become one with the goddess herself. This year simply refused to go the way he’d envisioned. 

If Hilda had found his reading habits obsessive before, they didn’t hold a candle to his habits nowadays. For nights on end, he’d hoard a new stack of books in his room, trying to put all the pieces together. Rhea, the Professor, the Immaculate One, Monica and Thomas (or should he say Kronya and Solon?). They all had to be connected somehow. Until he found out how, he wouldn’t be able to sleep in peace. 

This time, at least, complaints from Hilda were few and far between. Even she must have realized anything she could say wouldn’t deter him this time. She’d often come to his room to do her homework or paint her nails or rummage through his closet, all without a single word coming out of her mouth. As long as she didn’t interrupt, he didn’t mind. The only times she’d actually spoken were to insist on getting something to eat, or to force him to sleep after an especially long reading session. He’d let such interruptions slide; if she weren’t around to remind him of such trivial things as food and sleep, who else would? 

Of course, he wasn’t always wise enough to take her advice. 

“No wonder I couldn’t find ya!” 

Cyril’s voice nearly threw Claude out of his seat. Though his vision was blurry when he opened his eyes, he could tell he was still in the Golden Deer classroom. He definitely remembered dragging himself to class that morning, but he couldn’t recall the rest. That said, it wasn’t too hard to guess what had transpired. 

“Ya have a bed in your room, don’t you?” Cyril reprimanded. “The one day I’m not here to clean and you’re drooling all over the table!”

Claude merely groaned. Considering he could see his shadow before him, midday had long come and gone. He’d really let time slip by. 

“Did you need something from me?” he managed to say between yawns. 

“The Professor wants ya on flight watch today,” said Cyril. 

“Oh, is it my turn this week?” 

“Obviously.” Cyril rolled his eyes. “That’s why they asked me to remind ya. Seems like ya needed it.”

“Right. Thanks, then.” Claude didn’t have nearly enough brain power to come up with something clever at the moment. Then again, when it came to Cyril, none of his quips ended up landing anyway.

Cyril detached a cloth from his waist and rubbed away Claude’s drool. “Well, make sure you don’t forget. For once, I’d hate to do it for you.”

“That’s new, coming from you.”

“You’re supposed to be doing it with Hilda.”

“Is she still bothering you?” Claude suddenly felt wide awake. He still remembered what Catherine had told him, back at the beginning of the school year. After that whole drama, he’d assumed Hilda had improved somewhat. If she was still carelessly causing problems for Cyril, however, he didn’t know if there was much else he could do. 

“Nah.” Cyril dismissed the idea before Claude had time to fret. “But she’s obviously trying too hard to make it up to me. Too bad she’s still as useless as ever when it comes to work, though.” 

Claude laughed. “Ah, then I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Ya should be,” Cyril said as he walked away. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen her around the animals.” 

* * *

As promised, Claude showed up to the stables for flight watch. Surprisingly, a sulking Hilda was already there, sitting on a nearby tree stump.

“Finally woke up, I take it?” she asked once she’d noticed him. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Everyone agreed you were better off as you were, even the Professor.”

“Geez, even Teach?”

Hilda nodded. “Luck is certainly on your side today, it seems. You got yourself a class-approved nap _ and _ a chores partner. I couldn’t get Lorenz to take my place.”

“You couldn’t? Doesn’t he always take the chance to offer himself?” 

“You’re not wrong,” Hilda hummed. “But I slipped up at the end.”

“You mentioned I was your partner, didn’t you?”

Hilda snapped her fingers. “Bingo.”

Claude chuckled. “Guess I can’t blame him. Having me as a chores partner isn’t anyone’s cup of tea.”

“According to _ who _?” Hilda’s shoulders raised slightly, as they often did whenever she was ready to punch someone. She rarely went through with such threats (while at the monastery at least), but Claude wondered how many times she would have followed through if he weren’t there to discourage her. 

“According to _ you. _”

Hilda instantly relaxed. “Oh. Right.” 

Claude winked at her, opening the stable door for her to go through. “You know, I take offense to that. Personally, I think I’m an ideal chores partner.” 

“Pfff.” Hilda stood from her stump and walked past him, _ accidentally _ flipping one of her twin tails into his face. “I only say that because you’re the only one who makes me _ work _.” 

Claude followed after her. The pegasi and wyverns inside poked their heads over their doors, eager to gain his and Hilda’s attention. 

“Eugh.” Hilda stepped back with her tongue stuck out. 

“What, not a fan?” Claude headed towards the equipment closet at the end of the stable, petting each animal as he walked past. 

“Not at all.” Hilda caught up to him and held onto his arm. “Don’t tell Marianne, but I’m not really an animal person.” 

“What? Fell off your pony as a kid?” 

“As embarrassing as it is, you’re not too far off.”

Claude opened the closet. It had been a while since he’d been assigned to the flight watch. He would have requested to be assigned to this task more often if he hadn’t been too afraid of coming off as suspicious. He could imagine the rumors: _ That von Riegan, kid? What a creep. Flies all over the monastery so often, you’d think he’s spying on us. Where did he learn to fly so well anyway? _

“Well, you can’t get yourself out of this one, dear Hilda.” Claude threw a harness her way, which she just barely caught. “They need everyone to do their part nowadays.” 

Hilda pouted, but didn’t argue. It seemed even she understood the tumultuous situation they were all in. After so many mishaps and infiltrations during the last few months, everyone was on edge. Under different circumstances, he may have conspired with her to play hooky, but not this time. If there was any time not to brush off their responsibilities, it was now. Besides, it’d been far too long since he last flew. 

“So, I’m guessing you’ve never flown before?” Claude asked. 

Hilda shook her head. “Not even once. I have no idea why the Professor thought this was a good idea.”

“In that case, it’s probably better to start you off on a wyvern.”

“A wyvern? No way! I’m using a pegasus.”

“What have you got against these cute little guys?” Claude pinched the nearest wyvern’s cheeks. The wyvern in question thanked him by licking his forehead with its tongue. 

“_ That _.” Hilda reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which she offered to Claude. 

Claude used his sleeve instead. “Wyverns are easier to ride, though. They’re a lot less temperamental than pegasi,” he explained. “Besides, you’d look super badass on a wyvern! Real intimidating.”

“That’s the exact opposite of what I want!” Hilda turned tail and approached the nearest pegasus stall. Without so much as greeting it, she flung open its door and walked straight in. 

Claude almost felt worse for the pegasus than he did for Hilda. Almost. 

* * *

Getting Mudpie the wyvern set up and ready to fly was no trouble at all. The guy was a total sweetheart, just as eager to fly as Claude was. Cloudchaser, on the other hand, could not be less pleased by Hilda’s approach. Hilda had practically tackled the poor pegasus into submission, accidentally tightening the saddle too tight to boot. In response, Cloudchaser had given Claude many reasons to pull Hilda out of harm’s way. In the time it took them to equip him, Claude had dodged pounding hooves more times than he’d ever had to do in his entire life. 

“You sure you can’t handle this on your own?” she asked once they’d successfully dragged Cloudchaser out from the stables. 

“You’re never gonna learn unless you try, Hilda.”

“I don’t _ want _ to learn.” She crossed her arms. “Don’t I do enough of that in class?”

“We both know that’s not true.” 

Hilda opened her mouth, as if to speak, but closed it almost immediately afterwards. 

“Though so. Got any more excuses?” 

Hilda gave Cloudchaser a sideways look. Claude had never seen such a disgruntled pegasus. With drawn lips and beady eyes, Cloudchaser seemed almost disgusted by the thought of Hilda riding him. If Claude didn’t fix her attitude, he’d surely throw her off once they’d risen high enough. 

Claude sighed. He refused to have his friend’s cause of death be a nasty fall during a school chore. “Here, let’s make a deal,” he said. 

Hilda’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of deal?”

“If you can try your best to get through this with a pleasant attitude, then we can take a trip down to Abyss tonight. I know you’ve been dying to party it up down there.” 

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Hilda said. “You don’t think the Professor will rat us out?” 

“I think everyone’s got bigger problems right now,” he said. 

Though he and Hilda had ventured to Abyss early on in the school year, they hadn’t been allowed back. More accurately, Seteth had declared it “explicitly forbidden.” If the Professor weren’t such an avid visitor, such nonsense wouldn’t have deterred them. Unfortunately, neither of them were familiar enough with the tunnel system to go in too deep, which limited them to the main areas near the entrance. Without Balthus’ guidance, a visit would prove too risky. Hilda had tried for months to convince him to help them out, but so far, no dice. But with everything going on, he doubted Teach or any other staff would prioritize a trip down there. 

“Good point.” After a bit of thought, Hilda finally nodded. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot.” 

“Good, now hop on.” 

With some instruction, Hilda managed to climb onto Cloudchaser. Though the pegasus clearly wasn’t in the best of moods, it didn’t seem like he was willing to murder now. 

Once Claude was atop Mudpie, he coaxed him into flying a few dozen feet off the ground. 

“How do I do that?” Hilda called from below. 

“Do what?”

“The flying thing.”

“Just let Cloudchaser know you’re ready. He knows what to do.”

Claude could see Hilda muttering, but her words didn’t quite reach him. Regardless, Cloudchaser jerked upwards, flying up past Claude and Mudpie at a frightening speed. Claude struggled to catch up before Cloudchaser came to a full stop, high enough that the clouds had hidden most of his view of Garreg Mach. 

“Are you alright?” he asked once he’d reached them. 

Hilda slowly nodded, not saying a word. Her clenched knuckles grabbing tight to the reins. Though she swayed side to side slightly, she kept her balance well. She certainly had much better control than when he’d first sat atop his own wyvern back in Almyra. He would have surely fallen off at that speed. 

Hilda eyed him over, her pupils shaking. “Since when can you fly that well?” she finally spoke. 

“I’ve done this sort of stuff before.” It was a vague answer, but not technically a lie. He’d probably learned to fly on a wyvern before he’d finished learning how to read, but that was besides the point. 

“Uh, what do I do now?”

“First, we have to get lower, or we won’t be able to see anything.”

“Oh, great.” Hilda squeezed her legs closer together, which only prompted Cloudchaser to wiggle around. Hilda screamed, and though Claude felt awful for doing so, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” she panicked. 

Claude wiped away at tears. “I’ve never heard you scared before!” He’d heard her scream plenty of times, actually; she constantly cheered herself on during fights, and her battle cry could strike fear into any opponent. When in an argument or in a bad mood, her screams always worked in her favor. Who knew that height would be all it took for her voice to reach such a pitch?

Hilda’s face lit up in embarrassment. “Just help me out, will ya? I’m trying!” 

“Right, right.” Claude took a deep breath and composed himself. “Lean back into the saddle and tug the reins a little. That should get him to lower himself.”

Hilda took a deep breath of her own, then did as she was told. This time, Cloudchaser obeyed, and Claude didn’t have to speed to keep up. Without needing to be prompted, Cloudchaser stopped at a perfect height level to conduct their watch. 

Though the day itself was a pleasant one, Hilda couldn’t stop trembling. “Are we done yet?” 

“We have to actually do the sky watch first.” 

“Right. And I do that how?”

“Just lean in whatever direction you want to go. Here, just follow me, it’ll be easier.” Claude positioned Mudpie in front of Cloudchaser and began gliding over the monastery. He was a bit concerned about leaving Hilda out of his view, but he trusted her to be loud enough if anything went wrong. 

Down below, he could make out the shapes of the various monastery workers going about their day. Students wearing uniforms were gradually moving away from the dining hall, which meant he and Hilda had probably missed dinner. 

“Seeing anything suspicious on your side?”

“I won’t lie to you, Claude: I can barely look down without wanting to puke.” 

Claude took a peek behind him and could tell she was being serious for once. One hand had let go of her reins to cover her mouth, and her whole face had adopted a greenish hue. 

“Uh, just hang in there and keep up. We’ll be done soon, okay?”

After a few more laps around the monastery, Claude called it a day. He hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary for the time being, though he doubted that any maldoings would be conducted in plain sight. He’d at least enjoyed the flight, even with all the bumps in the road. Above all, the sun was beginning to set, setting the monastery aglow with bright pinks and oranges. When was the last time he’d been outside to see the sun set? 

Once he’d guided Hilda into a successful landing, he couldn’t help but keep thinking about it. It had been the only pleasant thing he’d seen in some time. “See that sunset, Hilda? Gorgeous, huh?”

Hilda hopped off Cloudchaser, taking in deep breaths. “I dunno. I kept my eyes mostly closed until I heard you switch directions,” she admitted. 

“Wait seriously?” 

“You saw me up there. Are you honestly surprised?” 

“Still, that won’t do.” With Hilda constantly holed up in his room, Claude knew well enough that she hadn’t seen anything nice in a while either. That had been at least partially his fault, he knew. After everything she’d been doing for him this month, she deserved a little something too. “Tie up Cloudchaser to that pole for a bit.”

“Why?”

“We’re going back up.” Claude patted the space behind him. Mudpie, being a decently-sized wyvern, could fit two people well enough. 

“Up? Again?”

“You won’t regret it,” Claude insisted. “This time you won’t have to worry about the flying part. Just enjoy the view.”

Hilda hesitated, but when Claude kept patting his saddle, she eventually sighed and tied up Cloudchaser, just as she was told. She then climbed behind Claude and grabbed hold of his waist with both arms. “I hope you’re right about this, Riegan.” 

Claude spurred forward, heading straight up until he could see only clouds underneath them. Hilda’s hold instantly grew tighter, both arms snaking around his torso as if she were trying to knot them to him. He could feel her heartbeat pounding. Hopefully her fear would keep her from hearing his. 

The sunset was still there to greet them. “I hope you’ve opened your eyes!”

“Do I really have to?” 

“That’s the whole point!”

“Fine, fine.” After a moment, Claude could hear Hilda’s breath hitch. “Woahhhh.”

“Right?”

“We must be _ really _ high up for the sunset to look this good.”

“Stop focusing on the height, will you? Pleasant attitude, remember?” 

“I guess I _ would _ hate to miss out on our deal.” Hilda loosened her arms around him. “Promise you won’t let me fall?”

“Promise.”

Claude heard nothing from Hilda for the next few minutes. With her head leaned against his back, he could only hope she was enjoying the view as much as he was. They remained up there until the sun’s final rays disappeared behind the horizon. 

“Any regrets?” he asked. 

“Ask me again once we’re on the ground.”

Claude shrugged and began his descent. Mudpie, having grown restless, angled himself in such a way that Hilda was practically shoved against Claude’s back. 

“Oh, please have him slow down!” she cried, once again clinging onto him for dear life. 

“I thought you wanted to get down sooner?”

“But I feel like I’m-” With a horrible retching noise, Claude’s back suddenly felt… warm. He didn’t have to guess to know what it was. 

“My bad,” was all Hilda could manage. 

Once the pair reached the ground, Claude helped Hilda down before carefully taking off his jacket. Luckily, the thing was thick enough that nothing had seeped through to his shirt. 

“I’m really sorry.” Despite her pink hair and accessories, Claude had never seen Hilda as pink as she was then. “You looked really cool up there and now…”

“You thought I looked cool?” 

Hilda tried saving face. “Compared to me, at least.” 

“It was my fault for insisting.” Claude saved her the embarrassment. “Guessing you regret it then?”

“Well, as long as you accept my apology, I guess I can say it was nice. You were right about the view.”

Claude smiled. “Glad to hear it.” 

“That said, can we move the Abyss trip to tomorrow? I don’t think my stomach can handle it tonight.”

“That goes without saying.” In fact, leaving her alone that night seemed almost cruel. “What do you say we have a sleepover tonight? I’ll steal the snacks. Think Lysithea’s still got cakes hidden in her secret stash?” 

“Oh, she’s got to,” Hilda agreed. 

He’d be missing out on some reading time, but considering he’d already wasted the day away with chores and sleeping anyway, what harm could come from extending this little reprieve? 

“Here, I’ll take these two back into the stables and then we’ll be on our way,” he offered.

“Thanks, Claude. Guess you ended up doing all the work after all.” 

Claude supposed she was right. Still, looking at her smiling at him, even with messy hair and a few flecks of vomit still stuck to her face, he thought he finally understood why everyone was always so eager to help her out. If she were willing to flash that smile every time, he’d be tempted to do the same. 

* * *

One trip to the washer’s, a snack raid, and several pillow fights later, the clocks of Garreg Mach struck 1 a.m. and the two were finally settling in for the night. After clearing out all his books, his bed fit two people just fine, so long as they both slept on their side. 

“Say, Claude?” Hilda yawned as she pulled over the covers. 

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been wondering…” She twirled her hair with one finger. He’d only seen her do that when trying to convince someone to do her work for her, but judging by her expression, that wasn’t the case this time. Hilda continued, “How come you don’t have a retainer?”

“A retainer?”

“Like Edelgard has Hubert, or Dimitri has Dedue,” Hilda explained. “You might not be a prince or princess, but you’re still the heir to the head of the Alliance. I would’ve thought you’d be sent here along with _ someone _.”

Though it surprised Claude that no one had asked him this question yet, the fact it was Hilda who had finally done so caught him off guard. They’d come to a silent agreement early on that they wouldn’t ask questions, yet here she was. He’d already come up with a myriad of excuses, but he found himself hesitating. Was there any use in lying to her when she could see right through him? 

Even so, he couldn’t just go out and say that his one and only retainer was too busy running the Almyran army, that neither he nor his parents trusted anyone else enough not to stab him in the back when he least expected it, that he himself hadn’t thought anyone would _ want _to do the job. Hilda had seen firsthand how well he could defend himself. So, instead of saying either, he did what he did best: tease. 

“Aw, Hilda, are you worried about me?” He booped her nose.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Her response lacked the flirty banter he’d expected. “With everything going on lately, we don’t know what’ll happen next. I just would’ve thought House Riegan would have sent someone by now, you know?”

“It’s not like my grandfather hasn’t suggested it,” Claude admitted. His grandfather didn’t write to him often, at least not to the extent Holst did to Hilda, but whenever he did, it was always with an offer in mind.

_ I could send you a few of my best men, _ he’d written. _ I trust in your capabilities, but one mustn't be too careful. I’ve been keeping close contact with the monastery staff over these matters and I believe it is best to take the proper precautions. _

Claude had rejected all of his offers so far. Claude couldn’t blame his grandfather for wanting to keep him safe, what with his daughter having run away to marry a foreign king and his son dead. Even so, Claude couldn’t picture two hostile faces following him around the monastery to and fro. It would make his late night library runs a lot more difficult, and any scheming would most certainly be put to a stop. Besides, though his grandfather had acted civilly towards him, some of his men hadn’t. He wouldn’t risk being stuck with bad company. 

“Then why don’t you?” Hilda pressed. 

Claude settled for the truth this time. Partially, at least. “Well, I just think I’m better off without anyone.” 

Hilda shook her head. “But what if someone targets you? I know you’ve got some _ killer _reflexes, but wouldn’t you feel better with someone there?”

“You mean, a meat shield.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“What else could it be, though?” 

Hilda went silent for a moment. “I guess you’ve got a point,” she finally agreed. 

“Don’t I always?” Claude turned over to blow out his candle. “Besides, I’ve got you, don’t I?”

“Me?”

“You’ve got meat and you’re always around anyway. Some would say you’re the obvious choice.” Claude trusted Hilda enough to know he meant no offense with his statement. 

“Oh, nuh-uh!” Hilda pulled Claude back to face her. “I’m not intending on dying for anyone else.” 

“That’s exactly what I like to hear,” Claude encouraged. “See? You’re perfect!”

“That hardly seems practical.”

“Listen, if my meat shield dies, then I’m as good as dead too, right? I don’t need anyone to die for me if the end result will be the same.”

“Well, in theory, they’d be good enough they _ wouldn’t _die.”

“And even so, there’s no guarantee they’ll be able to overcome any opponent.” 

“Ok, fine, you win.” Hilda sighed and turned away. “Retainers are useless, I get it. Goodnight”

“I didn’t say _ that _.”

“I don’t know. That’s kind of what it sounded like to me.” 

“No, I said _ meat shields _ are essentially useless. Retainers, on the other hand? They can be pretty handy sometimes.”

Hilda craned her neck. “Really? Care to make the distinction?” 

“Meat shields are only intended to _ die _ for someone. Retainers, on the other hand? They _ live _ for someone.”

“And what’s the use in that, exactly? Either way, if you end up dead, it’s all over.”

“You’re right; if I die, then that’s it for me. But if I had a retainer, one who’s willing to _ live _ for me, then at least my _ dreams _ are kept alive. 

“_ Dreams _?”

“Dreams can outlive just about anyone as long as there’s someone around who can still carry them. I’m inclined to say that a retainer would do a better job than most.”

“Alright, alright.” Hilda faced him again. Then, crossing her arms she asked, “Dreams. Care to share?”

“Nuh-uh. You said you wouldn’t be mine, so you’ve got no right.” 

Hilda rolled her eyes but accepted defeat. 

“What about you? Why hasn’t Holst sent someone for you? I doubt he’s very keen on leaving his little sister unprotected.”

“You’d be surprised. Apparently, he thinks I’m strong enough to handle myself. Supposedly, this entire situation is a great lesson in self-sufficiency or some other nonsense. Clearly, my parents haven’t been informed or they would’ve sent an entire task force over within the week.”

“Why don’t you tell them yourself?”

“You think they’d let me sleep in another boy’s room if I did?” 

“Ah, and we can’t have _ that _, can we?” Claude took Hilda’s head and pressed it against his chest, playfully suffocating her. 

“Of course not!” Hilda broke free and shoved Claude straight off the bed. 

The two shared a good laugh until a loud bang on the wall shut them up. 

“Sorry, Felix!” Claude called out. 

“Alright, alright, it’s about time we actually went to bed.” Hilda helped Claude back up. “Felix will cut us in half next time he sees us if we don’t.” 

“I’m just surprised Lorenz hasn’t knocked yet.”

“Must be busy doing something?” 

“You can’t possibly believe he’s up at this hour?”

“He’s got more going on in his head than you do, I bet,” Hilda teased. “You’d know if you hung out with him more.”

Claude slipped back into bed. “I’ll be sure to if he ever invites me.”

“Goodnight, Claude.”

“Night, Hilda.”

* * *

Though Hilda wouldn’t consider herself a light sleeper, she certainly wasn’t a heavy one either. A sudden lack of warmth, the sound of crinkling sheets, and a few thumps were all it took to wake her. She didn’t open her eyes all the way, nor did she move. If it were time for class, Claude would have woken her upright. 

Through slitted eyes, she made out Claude’s figure hunched in the corner. Ah, he’d gone back to reading. It seemed that afternoon nap had taken care of some of his sleeping needs. Then again, even with only a few hours of sleep in him, Claude could take on his fair share of books in a day. 

She considered calling him back. She could claim that sleeping without him there to hold made it harder. That would surely guilt him into coming back. Seeing him hunched over, cracking his neck and muttering to himself every few seconds, however, she decided not to. 

_ Let him do what he needs to do. _

After all, though she’d never be his retainer, she’d always be his friend, which meant she’d always be around to bring him back if need be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all want to keep up with my updates, my Twitter handle is @SmolPidge. I mostly retweet FE3H and Digimon, but you can always turn off retweets. I really only tweet when updating fics!
> 
> Also, a big thank you to everyone who has been leaving kudos and comments between updates. They always make me smile :)
> 
> Until next time!


	7. "You can count on it.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda didn't think Claude capable of throwing tantrums. A house call after the battle at the holy tomb proves otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was initially nearly 7k words, but because it's so lengthy and it deals with two separate things, I decided to cut it into two. That said, since I already wrote and edited the entire thing, there's no use in waiting. The next chapter will be up shortly after this one is!
> 
> This was written in honor of hilclaude week on Twitter! Though I didn't write this with the prompts (Secrets/Confessions for day 1) in mind, I think that between the two chapters, they have a little bit of both. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“You think it went that poorly?” 

Lorenz nodded solemnly. “Claude’s always been one to cause a ruckus, but it’s never been this loud before. Stomping, throwing things… I can’t believe he has the gall to act this way after one setback. He wouldn’t even come to the door when I knocked! Just further proof he is not fit to run the Alliance.” 

Hilda rolled her eyes, ignoring his last comment. She couldn’t hear anything from Claude’s side anymore, but even if Lorenz could be a pain sometimes, he was no liar. Besides, Lorenz of all people wouldn’t have invited so many people to his room if he weren’t truly concerned. 

That said, she hadn’t thought Claude capable of throwing tantrums. Not even Claude was immune to anger, but he had made a pretty compelling case for himself thus far. Insults and petty arguments he shrugged away without any trouble. On the few occasions he’d been truly ticked off, he’d kept his cool, sometimes leaning into passive aggression if he really wasn’t in the mood. In the worst of cases, he’d say something snappy, only to leave and avoid others for a while until he’d calmed down. Hilda had assumed she’d seen the worst of it months ago when they’d had their own argument, but if there was one thing she should have known by now, it was that even Claude von Riegan had a breaking point.

He’d hid it well at first. When news of Edelgard’s ascension to the Adrestrian throne reached Garreg Mach, he’d been the first to calm everyone down with words like, “all we can do is wait and see” or “there’s nothing we could have done differently.” Hilda herself had taken comfort in his words then and again. She would have gone and spoken to him directly in those times, but he’d recently taken to locking himself away in his room, and this time, he wasn’t open to visitors. 

She’d assumed he’d been preparing for his audience with Lady Rhea, one he’d insisted on ever since returning from the battle at the holy tomb. A couple days after the affair, however, and he hadn’t yet shown his face around the monastery. 

Hilda pressed her ear against the wall one more time, but besides the occasional shuffling, she heard nothing from the other side. 

“I think it’s about time we staged an intervention,” said Leonie in a hushed voice. She set down the lance she’d been sharpening. 

“What do you suggest?” Flayn asked. 

Leonie sighed. “First, we have to find a way to get him to open that door.” 

“Good luck with that.” Hilda crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m pretty sure it’d be easier to just bash it in than get him to open it for us.”

“Maybe we can find a way to unlock it ourselves from the outside?” Marianne suggested. 

“Only Seteth and the Professor have access to the dorm keys,” said Lorenz.

Lysithea shook her head. “That’s not true. I know Cyril has some.” 

Lorenz frowned. “He does? What for?” 

Lysithea shrugged. “To pick up laundry or sheets or something? I wouldn’t know.” 

“Well, if he’s got some, then you can get that key for us, right?” Leonie excitedly burst. Hilda and Ignatz shushed her. Though it made sense to meet in Lorenz’ room since he’d brought up the issue, on second thought, strategizing next door to the guy they were trying to trick had probably not been the wisest idea. At least they’d been smart enough not to invite Raphael.

“I can’t do that to Cyril! What if he gets found out?” Lysithea said.

“Claude adores that kid, he wouldn’t tell!” Leonie assured. 

“Well, maybe not under different circumstances, but now…”

The room fell quiet. None of them could claim familiarity with this side of Claude. Who was to say how he would and wouldn’t react?

“You’re the only one on good enough terms with Cyril to get those keys, Lysithea,” Leonie spoke first. “I don’t think anyone else here could do it.”

“I can tell he intentionally walks the other way when I run into him,” Hilda admitted. 

Ignatz hung his head low. “I don’t think he likes me very much either.” 

“That’s because you two don’t know how to talk to him like a normal person,” Lysithea snapped. 

“Yeah, I’m working on it,” said Ignatz.

Lysithea closed her eyes, seemingly lost in thought. When she finally spoke, she sighed. “You have a point, though.” 

“Does that mean what I think it means?” Leonie waggled her eyebrows. 

Lysithea nodded. “If something goes wrong though, neither Cyril nor I were involved in any of this, alright?” 

“Deal,” Leonie settled. Then, throwing a glare at Lorenz, she added, “Lorenz, you better not tell.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lorenz waved his hand. Hilda found it weird he didn’t argue with her, but maybe he’d finally given up on trying to push back. 

“After we get the key, then what?” Hilda asked. 

“Rushing in on him is probably not a good idea,” Lysithea said. 

“So maybe just one of us should make first contact?” said Ignatz. 

“In that case, it’s gotta be Hilda, right?” Leonie said. 

Hilda’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“Who else?” Lysithea said as if it were obvious. “If Claude’s going to listen to anyone, it’s gonna be you.”

Hilda couldn’t argue with that logic. Anyone who had seen the two of them in action would have said the same. 

“You know him better than anyone,” Marianne said. “I know you can get through to him somehow.” 

“And we’ll play backup if that doesn’t work out,” Leonie reassured. “No matter what, we’re getting our house leader back.”

"So, Hilda? Do you think you are up for it?" Flayn asked.

Hilda cracked her knuckles. “Absolutely.”

* * *

After a successful key hunt and with the rest of the Deer huddled by the staircase, it came the time for Hilda to make first contact. As planned, she tried knocking first. 

“I’m busy!” came the reply. 

“With what?” 

“I’m preparing to have tea with Rhea.”

“Since when does she have tea with students?”

“She doesn’t.”

That sounded like a red flag if she’d ever heard one. She turned to the others for guidance. Leonie nodded enthusiastically; time to proceed to stage two. Without warning, Hilda shoved Cyril’s key into the lock and turned the doorknob. 

Inside, Claude hung over his desk, a series of vials and beakers spread atop it. Though his room had always been a mess, Hilda could finally see what he had meant every time he claimed it to be “organized clutter.” The usual mountain of books he kept beside his bed had been completely destroyed. Instead, books were scattered all over the floor, along with several notebooks and other belongings. At least before, he’d kept a pathway to all the room’s amenities clear. Now, she could barely make out the floor underneath all his junk. 

Claude didn’t say anything at first. The bags under his eyes had Hilda’s full attention, which was rather impressive considering the rest of him was in a likewise raggedy state. His trademark braid had come undone at the end, and the little clothes he had on were wrinkled in ways she hadn’t thought possible. Hunched over his desk like that, Hilda could’ve mistaken him for a drunken thief. 

“Yes?” he finally spoke. Though he’d only spoken one word, his exhaustion weighed heavy on his speech. Evidently, he hadn’t been sleeping too well. 

Hilda moved farther into the room, making sure to keep her hand on the doorframe. The moment she let go, the rest of the Deer were prepared to stampede in. 

“Is that what you’ve been busy with?” Hilda pointed at the setup on his desk. 

Claude shrugged. Hilda supposed that was a confirmation. 

“What is it, exactly?” 

Claude sighed. “Hilda, how did you even get in here?”

“That’s... not important. No one’s seen you in days. Have you even eaten?”

“I stocked up.” Claude jerked his head to the side, pointing to a series of plates and food waste next to his desk. 

“What about baths?”

“I’ll take one before meeting with Rhea.”

“So you’re not kidding about that.” 

“Of course not.” Then, with a hand on his hip, he asked, “Is that it? Satisfied?”

“You didn’t answer my first question.” 

“And I’m not going to.” 

“You’re being ridiculous.” 

“So what if I am?” 

Before Hilda could reply, an alarm rang off. Claude turned away from her to turn it off, which apparently meant pounding on a poor clock. He picked up one of the vials, popped a corkscrew onto it, then shook it for a few seconds. When he unscrewed it, he took a big whiff of the stuff. Hilda took in a long sniff too, hoping to recognize the smell. It did smell familiar somehow, but where had she-

She gasped. “Claude! Are you poisoning the _ archbishop?” _

Claude didn’t respond, instead picking up a pair of pants and throwing them on, after which he pocketed the vial. 

“I’m hitting the showers,” he said. 

“You’re insane!” Hilda blocked the door with her entire body. 

“Relax!” he whispered. “It’s not like this is gonna kill her. It’ll just loosen her lips a little, that’s all.”

“You think that matters? The church will send you to the guillotine once they find out.”

_ “If _ they find out.”

“No, _ when. _There’s no way this is gonna go the way you planned it. Not with Rhea involved.”

“Hilda, she’s hiding something. I need to know what.” His voice dropped in hostility for a moment. 

Hilda wouldn’t give him any leeway, though. “So what if she is? That doesn’t change anything!” 

“I’m just sick of all these church secrets!” Claude dropped the act. “If she’d only said something sooner, this could have all been avoided.” 

“I don’t think you should be one to talk.” 

Claude didn’t dare respond to that. 

Hilda sighed. “Look, you need a breather. You’re not thinking straight.” 

“I never claimed to be,” Claude joked. Though he laughed, he obviously didn’t find the situation amusing. If he did, he wouldn’t be looking at her as if he wanted to poison _ her. _

“Besides, a breather?” he continued. “We’re at war now. We know nothing, and Edelgard’s been hatching her plans this entire time.”

“There’s not anything we could have done differently.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.” He tried to push past her, but Hilda held fast. It would take more than a gentle shove to get her to budge. 

“Hey! Those are your words, not mine,” she argued. 

“Just because I say it, doesn’t mean I believe it.” Claude crossed his arms over his chest like a child. He was losing patience. 

“Why would you say it at all, then?”

“I’m a house leader, Hilda. What else am I supposed to say?”

Hilda frowned. How much pressure had Claude been undergoing this whole time? He’d been around to assure and guide everyone, but who was supposed to do the same for him when no one could notice anything was wrong in the first place? She wished she’d noticed sooner, but that didn’t matter anymore. Stopping him was the best way to help him now. 

“I still can’t let you go through with this.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if daring her. “Oh really?”

Hilda nodded. “I apologize in advance.” She let go of the doorframe. 

Within seconds, the hallway thundered with the footsteps of her friends. Claude’s eyes widened, and he attempted to move back into the room, but Hilda let Raphael through before he could do anything. Raphael grabbed Claude by the waist and hoisted him up over his shoulder in one swoop. 

“Huh? Huh?” Claude’s mouth repeated the same thing over a few times, as if it couldn’t truly process what was happening. 

“Deer, onward march!” Leonie shouted. 

With Raphael in the lead, everyone ran behind him down the stairs and towards the pond. 

“Raphael, buddy, don’t you think this is a little overkill?” Claude tried reasoning with his captor. 

Raphael shook his head. “This is for your own good, Claude.”

A few straggling students stared on in confusion as their little entourage made it to the pond. After some quick scouting from Marianne and Ignatz to confirm that no other officials were around to dissuade them (Flayn had promised to keep her brother busy), they huddled onto the pier. 

“You’re going to throw me in there, aren’t you?” Claude grimaced. 

Hilda flashed him a wicked grin. “You said it yourself: you’re in need of a bath.”

“It’s still cold out, you animals!” Though Claude had been trying to wiggle himself out of Raphael’s grasp only moments before, he now attempted to grab a hold of his beefy muscles. 

On Leonie’s cue, Raphael lifted Claude off his shoulder. Though Claude tried his best to remain attached, his efforts proved futile. Raphael dunked him straight into the pond with a big splash. Both Leonie and Hilda jumped in right afterwards hand in hand, closely followed by Rapahel in the form of a cannonball. 

When Hilda resurfaced, Claude was keeping himself afloat while also trying to shake the water out of his hair. 

“You’re all truly awful,” he said between shivers. Though spring would be upon them soon, the water was still cold to the touch. Admittedly, Hilda hadn’t been a fan of this plan either, but it had been the best one, and if a little cold was all it took to bring Claude back to his senses, she’d endure it. 

“Nowhere to run here, Riegan,” she said. Along with Leonie and Raphael, the three encircled Claude so he wouldn’t just swim away. “Either you talk, or we all freeze.” 

“I know how to swim.”

“Not what I want to hear.” Hilda splashed him with a wave of chilly water. Despite his arguments to the contrary, she knew how much he despised the cold weather. He wouldn’t complain much during the winter months, but the amount of layers he wore under his uniform spoke volumes. 

As expected, Claude cringed away, his teeth openly chattering. Finding this an effective strategy, all three went on the offensive, throwing water left and right. Claude spluttered underneath it all, grunting and muttering between attempts at shielding himself from the onslaught. 

“Okay, okay!” he eventually relented. 

Hilda, Leonie, and Raphael ceased their attack for the time being. 

“So? Fess up,” Leonie demanded. 

Claude blinked as everyone else glued their eyes onto him. He squirmed under the stares, but kept himself afloat. He surely hadn’t had this much attention in ages, if ever, and it showed. 

“I’m just so frustrated,” Claude admitted. “If I’d caught on sooner, then maybe-”

Hilda stopped him right there. “There’s nothing we could have done differently.” 

“Stop saying that. It’s not true. I didn’t try hard enough, okay?”

“Claude, you are literally the smartest person I know.” Hilda’s eyes made contact with his. “As far as I’m concerned, no one in all of Fodlan could have predicted this.”

“I admit, neither my father nor I could have seen this coming,” Lorenz said. “As unfortunate as it is, I am inclined to say that this war was inevitable.

“All we can do is try our best moving forward,” said Ignatz. 

“We’re friends, right?” Leonie said. “Just because you’re our house leader, doesn’t mean you can’t trust us with your worries. This war affects _ all _ of us, and so we’re _ all _ going to fight. Together.”

“Even if we don’t have all the answers, it doesn’t change what we have to do. We stop Edelgard, regardless of what we have at our disposal,” Lysithea seconded. 

“I know I may not be of much help, but I will do all I can to support you,” said Marianne.

Claude paused at all the praise and reassurance. It reminded Hilda of their ball surprise. This man could come across demonic beats and other mysteries and be almost entirely unfazed, but he still couldn’t believe his friends would willingly help him out. It made Hilda want to knock his brains out sometimes. 

“You’re all truly awful, you know that?” he finally said, throwing both arms down as hard as he could. The resulting wave showered everyone, including those on the pier. “But somehow, I’m okay with that.” 

Hilda laughed, eagerly splashing him back. Everyone else joined in, spraying each other as thoroughly as they could. Even Lorenz had vengefully participated after he’d been dragged into the water by Leonie, falsely claiming he couldn’t swim. 

Despite Flayn’s best attempts, she could only keep Seteth occupied for so long. Though the other teachers had turned a blind eye, he’d swiftly kicked them out of the pond. It had been fun while it lasted, at least. 

“So, still going ahead with the poisoning ploy?” Hilda asked Claude on their way back to the dorms. None of them had thought of bringing towels, so though the walk was a short one, it was also a rather cold one.

He held the vial out to her. “Take it before I change my mind.” 

Hilda did so. She’d have Balthus dispose of it later. 

“You’re obsessed with me, you know,” Claude said, vainly trying to shake out the water from his hair. “You can’t seem to leave me alone.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just good at getting you out of trouble.”

“That you are. You better promise to stay by me when these imperial soldiers decide to show up.” 

“You can count on it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting about Flayn, but she's there, I promise!
> 
> I realize this chapter is somewhat similar to chapters 3 and 5, but I really wanted to showcase another Deer shenanigan with the entire squad so forgive me please. I promise that moving forward, there will be more variety. No more overly angsty Claude (can you tell that I really like the idea of Claude losing his shit?)
> 
> Also, if you've noticed, I added a total chapter number! I finally sat down and wrote down small outlines for incoming chapters, and as of right now, I'm planning on 17 chapters total. This is subject to change, but the fic will still probably end up in the 16-18 range, so with the next chapter, we'll be about halfway there! 
> 
> Thanks everyone for the support, see ya next chapter :)


	8. "If anything goes wrong, I’ll find you. I promise.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The imperial army has reached Garreg Mach. Claude and Hilda promise not to die on each other, but that's easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the second chapter today. Since this update was cut in half, this is the actual last academy phase chapter. Enjoy!

The imperial troops would be upon Garreg Mach in a matter of hours. With his first arrow already fitted to his bow, Claude and the rest huddled around the Professor to discuss their formations. 

“Claude, you’ll be guarding the main gate. Lorenz and Leonie will be flanking you. Some of the Blue Lions will be frontlining your section.”

“And what about me?” Hilda asked. 

“I need you by the east gate,” the Professor answered. “Some of the bulkier knights will keep you company.” 

Though Claude had never questioned his Professor’s tactics before, they’d also never separated the two before. Strategically speaking, he assumed his Professor had the right idea, but he couldn’t help but doubt it for the briefest of seconds. 

Hilda made eye contact with him from across the room. The last time she’d battled alone, she’d gotten hurt. In such a big battle, things could end far worse. Claude shook his head. That had been months ago. Hilda could hold her own better than anyone, especially with so much more training under her belt. She’d be fine, with or without him around. 

Once the Professor had finished giving out directions, the students went their separate ways to arrange their weapons and gear. Students bustled about the monastery, rushing to prepare before the first wave hit. 

Claude waited by the classroom door for Hilda, but she waved him away as she spoke to the Professor. Could she possibly be asking for a reassignment at this stage? Everyone knew she wasn’t a fan of doing work, but surely she wouldn’t be so selfish now? 

He didn’t see her again until they’d all regathered by the monastery gates. Clad in light armor, her typical warrior getup, he noticed something shining beside her. 

“Is that Freikugel?”

Hilda nodded. “I might as well bring out all the stops, right?”

“I thought you said you weren’t ready.” 

“At this point, it’s kind of now or never.” 

Claude nodded. “I know you’ll be able to use it just fine.”

Hilda lowered her eyes to the axe. “I sure hope so.” 

“Hey,” Claude lowered his voice, taking her free hand in his. “No dying on me, okay?”

Hilda closed her eyes and smiled. “Only as long as you don’t either.” 

“If anything goes wrong, I’ll find you. I promise.” 

“Okay.” She pulled down on his arm and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

Claude left before his increasingly sweaty hands gave away how flustered that had made him. 

* * *

Claude could hardly think as he shot arrow after arrow at the incoming imperial army. His classmates followed suit: Leonie and Lorenz charged forward and drove their spears into anything they encountered while Dimitri battled through an impressive throng of soldiers just ahead. 

Though they had kept their ground so far, he wasn’t sure how long they could continue. His arrow supply was running low, meaning he’d been stalling shooting until he could guarantee he’d hit. Their current strategy wouldn’t be effective forever, and it didn’t help that he constantly had Hilda in the back of his mind to worry about. 

Before Claude could take aim at his next target, a blinding light shone overhead. He shielded his eyes with his arm and crouched down to the ground, hoping his enemies were just as disoriented as he was. Through squinted eyes, he noticed a huge mass in the sky. As the light diminished and he became able to fully open his eyes, the sight above him caused him to choke on his own spit. A dragon was flying over Garreg Mach. 

Sunlight reflected off its dazzling white scales. Its roar pierced through the ranks. The dragon plowed into the Empire forces, reducing the frontliners to dust with its claws and breath.

Claude caught sight of Teach nearby, watching just as attentively as he was. Though certainly surprised, they didn’t seem to be worried. That was all he needed to see to confirm that the dragon, regardless of where it had come from, was on their side. He pushed forward, hoping he could get some good shots in while the initial confusion distracted the Empire troops.

He hit two more soldiers before a second roar brought his attention back up to the sky. The dragon wasn’t there anymore, however. Instead, it writhed under a handful of demonic beasts, struggling to shake them off. Claude watched as the Professor tried approaching them. 

“Teach!” he called out, but it fell on deaf ears. Within seconds, the ground had crumbled underneath them. 

Claude stared in disbelief at the scene before him. Just moments ago, the tides of war had seemingly changed sides. Naive of him to assume it wouldn’t happen a second time. 

“It’s over,” he said to himself. Then louder, “It’s over!” Claude turned tail. He recognized now that this battle couldn’t be won. 

“Dimitri, stand back! You’ll be overrun if you stay here!” he called to him. 

Dimitri took no notice of him, striking enemy after enemy down. Claude tried pulling him back by his elbow, but the prince merely pushed him away with his superhuman strength. 

“Stand back, Claude. I must end Edelgard for good.”

The prince had been acting strangely for weeks, but Claude had been too occupied in his own funk to really notice. Now, however, he wondered if it would really be okay to get any closer, should Dimitri decide to skewer him too. It was a shame, really; Claude remembered how cute he’d found the prince when they’d first met, with his unnecessary formality and tendency to assume the best in others. Realizing he could do little else for him now, however, Claude left Dimitri to suffer his own fate. 

“Where are you going?” Leonie, shouted as he ran past her and Lorenz. 

“Retreating. You’d do the same if you want to live.” 

“What?”

“Without Teach, we don’t have a plan. At this rate, they’ll reach us soon.”

Lorenz muttered something under his breath. If he weren’t so picky about his vocabulary, Claude would’ve assumed he’d just cursed. 

“He’s right,” he said. “I fear a retreat is in order.”

“You can’t be serious.” Leonie’s voice shook. 

“I’ll pick up Marianne and Lysithea,” Lorenz said. “Leonie, stay safe.” With that he galloped away. 

Normally, Claude would’ve feigned offense at Lorenz’ rude departure, but this was neither the time nor place. As long as he managed to get the other two out safe, Lorenz could say whatever he damn well wanted to. 

That was all Leonie needed to accept the truth, it seemed. Though her eyes betrayed her disgust, she patted the spot behind her. “Here, hop on.”

Claude shook his head. “Can you find Raphael and Ignatz instead?”

Leonie frowned. “And you?”

“I’m getting Hilda.”

Leonie laughed. “Of course you are. I should’ve known.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just don’t make me regret this,” she said before riding away at top speed. 

Grateful for her help, Claude pushed past the ranks. Every once in a while, he’d have to leap over strewn corpses and wounded soldiers from both sides, but he paid them no mind. Right now, he had only one worry, and as long as none of these bodies was holding a freak axe, he couldn’t care less. 

Once he managed to reach the eastern side of the monastery, he realized reaching Hilda would be a more complicated affair than he’d first thought. The east wall crawled with imperial soldiers. Had the frontal attack been a cover for a bigger force on the side? No wonder the Professor had stacked it with defenses. 

Bracing himself, Claude threw himself into the fray. He tried his best to avoid direct combat, only shooting once someone got too close. He weaved between soldiers, both the living and the dead, eyes peeled for the slightest hint of pink. 

Before he could get far, the ground gave way beneath him. He stumbled as he hit the ground, shielding his face from harm with his arms. 

“Edelgard should’ve done away with you ages ago.”

_ Hubert. _

His magic had missed enough to merely graze him, but Claude suspected his next one would do far worse. Claude searched wildly for his former peer. They’d played chess together a couple times, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass about that now. 

He ignored the stinging sensation in his ear and hurried to his feet. He finally spotted the warlock a ways away, guarded by a series of other soldiers. As it stood, Claude wouldn’t be able to make a direct hit, not unless he could reach a higher altitude. Hubert raised his arm for another magic attack. 

Claude shot a few arrows, hoping the surrounding soldiers would disperse and clear a path for him. Most of them missed, probably because his balance had been messed with during the last attack. Those that did find their way into an unfortunate soldier were of little use. Where one soldier fell, another rushed over to take its place and maintain the line. The most he could do was run and hope Hubert had poor aim. 

“Goodbye, Claude,” Hubert said, black and purple tendrils gathering around his fingertips. 

“Not on my watch!” 

A battalion of fortress knights barged into the cluster of soldiers, knocking most off their feet. Hubert’s spell shot off into the sky, safely exploding in the air. Before the mage could fire another shot, Hilda lunged into him with her axe. She only managed to partially wound him, but it had been enough for him to warp away. 

“What did I tell you about not dying?” she reprimanded as she fought her way over to him. 

“I thought you were guarding the east gate?”

“Seteth told us the front lines needed backup. We’re on our way now.” 

“Not anymore. We’re leaving.”

“Huh?”

“It’s obvious we’re being overrun. We need to leave while we still can.” 

“But what about everyone else?”

Claude shook his head. “Teach is gone.”

Hilda’s eyes widened. “What? Are you telling me they’re _ dead?” _

“I don’t know that for sure, but wherever they are, they can’t help us now. And _ that,” _he pointed at the dragon currently warding off a handful of the Empire’s hideous creatures, “won’t be held back for long. We’re done for if we stay here.” 

Without giving her another chance to argue, Claude snatched her hand and pulled her away. She kept up well enough despite her axe and armor weighing her down. He wondered if he should be impressed by her physical condition, or worried that Hubert’s hit had done more damage to him than he’d originally thought. 

“Fall back!” he kept calling as they darted between battling students and soldiers. Hopefully, some of them would heed his advice. 

“Where are we going?” Hilda asked, struggling to hold Freikugel with one hand. 

“The stables. They’ll have a much harder time trying to hit us from the air.”

“There’s no way we’ll make it through the gates,” Hilda argued. She stopped running, holding him back. 

“Well, we won’t be able to make it anywhere on foot.” Claude tried once again to make her budge, but she wouldn’t. “If this is because of your flying issue-”

“Of course not! But look!” she pointed at the main gates. 

When Claude had first passed them by, the knights had been warding off invaders rather well. Using ballistas, they had managed to stop any fliers from breaking through, and Catherine and her Thunderbrand had gotten to work with any who dared reach her. At some point within the time it took to retrieve Hilda, however, the tables had dramatically turned. 

“Where did they get this many reinforcements?” he asked. The sky was riddled with imperial pegasus knights, and the last line of Seiros knights had been pushed against the gate.

“Got any other ideas?” Hilda asked, her eyes darting to and fro. 

Claude ushered her behind an abandoned ballista. It would provide them with some cover until he could come up with something. Flying was their only way out; of that he was sure. They wouldn’t get far on foot, and a horse would make them an easy target at this stage. If he couldn’t get to the stables, however, his resources were limited. 

“Can’t we just steal one?” Hilda asked unprovoked. “A pegasus, I mean.” 

Claude could have kissed her at that moment. “You're more of a strategist than anyone gives you credit for, Miss Goneril.”

“I try.”

“Cover me.” 

Hilda nodded and held her axe at the ready. Meanwhile, Claude pushed aside the ballista’s previous user, a poor knight with an arrow lodged in his throat, and pointed it up high. He’d need a shot that hit both the pegasus and its handler. He couldn’t kill the animal, but if he didn’t at least graze it, it would fly back to the imperial barracks instead of land. 

“This won’t work,” he said. With so many fliers around, one bad shot would get them killed in a heartbeat. “We need one to be close enough for you to hit.”

“We’re not resorting to bait tactics, are we?”

Claude pursed his lip. “I’ll catch the attention of someone on the edge. When they get close enough to hit, you finish the job.”

“You’ll be hit!”

“Not if you strike first.”

“You’re really sure about this?” 

“We’ll be dead otherwise.” 

Hilda closed her eyes for a few seconds, then nodded. “Fine. This better work, Riegan.”

Claude aimed the ballista at the edge of the cloud of fliers. The next flier who tried to join their ranks would be in for a surprise. 

“Assuming I’m not dead, you hit on my cue.”

“The only one dying is that flier.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Movement on the edge brought his attention back to the battlefield. Another small swarm of pegasus knights were heading towards the rest. He’d been hoping for a solitary flier, but they couldn’t afford to wait for that opportunity. Aiming at the last one in line, he shot. 

The arrow flew past the rider’s head, but it did its job. Claude made sure the flier had gotten a good look at him before ducking. The flier charged at him, descending at a frightening speed. 

“Think you can jump on the pegasus right after?” Claude asked as he kept the flier in sight. 

“Are you serious?”

“We can’t let it get away.” 

“Ugh, I’ll try.” 

The pegasus knight raised its lance high as it lunged for Claude. He kept his body from moving, though it practically begged him to run away. Now only a few feet off the ground and too close to Claude’s face to estimate, he yelled, “Now!”

Hilda jumped out from where she’d been crouched behind him and pushed him out of the way. In one swing, she’d slashed through the riders armor. The pegasus shrieked underneath, but Hilda caught onto one of its legs before it could retreat. 

“Hurry!” she grunted, throwing her whole weight down to keep it from escaping. 

Claude hopped up and, using Hilda as a stepping stone of sorts, managed to land on the pegasus’ back. He immediately pulled her up and squeezed her behind him. Considering the pegasus’ size, he worried that their combined weight, along with Freikugel, could pose an issue, but he chose to believe in his new steed. He pulled the reins, and with no further hesitations, the pegasus began flapping its wings. 

It took them longer to get off the ground, but the pegasus eventually managed to fly off. Claude remained on his guard for any straw arrow as they retreated, but as he had initially suspected, no imperial soldier took a shot at an imperial pegasus, even with two suspicious riders. It was only until the monastery was officially out of sight that he finally lowered his bow and took in a deep breath. 

“We did it,” Hilda said in disbelief. 

“Yeah, we did.” 

The two didn’t exchange many words after that. Neither of them could think of anything to say, not anything that would make them feel any better, at any rate. Besides, Claude’s muscles ached, and the pain in his ear was returning. Though he couldn’t assess Hilda’s injuries at the moment, her silence led him to assume she’d gotten off fine enough. Either way, there were too many other things to worry about. With the monastery taken over, there was no saying how the rest of the war would play out. 

The only time the silence was broken was when Hilda touched his ear. “What happened to it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got a nasty cut. Seems you lost your earring too.”

“Must have gotten hit harder than I thought, then.” 

“I’ll make you a new one.” 

“You don’t have to.”

“I _ want _to.” 

“... thanks.”

He intended on taking Hilda back to her family’s estate. That said, Goneril territory was a long ways away, and the pegasus wouldn’t be able to make the trip non-stop, not with so much cargo. By the time they reached Myrrdin, their pegasus was already descending without having been told to do so. 

“We’ll have to continue tomorrow morning,” he said as the pegasus reached the ground.

“Do you think we’ll be okay here?”

“The Empire can only advance so much. As long as we don’t antagonize any Gloucester soldiers, we should be fine.” 

Hilda nodded, sliding off the pegasus. Though she’d had such a tough time flying the last time they’d tried, she hadn’t complained this time, and there had certainly been no vomit involved either. Considering there was plenty to keep her mind off the flight, it didn’t surprise him. 

Her eyes fell to the ground, Freikugel limp in her arms. With the sun gone, its crest stone was the only source of light they had, however faint. The Myrrdin torches lit up the bridge further down the river. If he weren’t so wary of Count Gloucester, he’d have asked to stay the night. He could probably get Hilda a room, but as selfish as it was, he didn’t want to be alone that night. 

“Do you think everyone else is okay?” Hilda asked. 

“I’m sure they are,” Claude replied. Though he shouldn’t be saying things like that, this once, he’d choose to believe in his classmates’ abilities. They’d gotten through everything else just fine, hadn’t they?

“Yeah, of course.” Hilda let her axe fall to the floor. The waning winter months and melted snow had left the Alliance’s normally grassy plains cold and somewhat mushy. If he weren’t so tired, he’d have trouble sleeping.

“Did you ever brush up on any reason spells?” he asked. 

“You know the answer to that.” 

“Then I guess we’ll have to make do without a fire.”

“Great.” Hilda was already shaking. The plains provided no cover from the wind, and their sweaty bodies didn’t make the situation any better. 

While the pegasus took a drink from the river, Claude took a seat. His sore ass didn’t appreciate it, but his legs would give out soon if he didn’t rest. Hilda came to join him, leaving Freikugel where she’d dropped it. 

“I hate that thing,” she said. “It’s incredibly gross.”

“Is it as powerful as you’ve heard, though?” Claude unzipped his coat and detached his house leader cape. He wouldn’t be needing it anymore. He offered half of it to Hilda.

Hilda took it, covering herself with the dirty cloth. “It definitely felt like it made me stronger.” 

“As long as it kept you safe, no complaints, right?”

“Oh, I have plenty,” she laughed. “But I guess you’re right.” 

Claude grabbed onto Hilda’s hand under the coat. Just to make sure she was really there, that they both were. He didn’t know what would become of their futures, but for the time being, he was here with her, and they’d survived the battle after all, if only just barely.

Hilda squeezed his hand back. “Hey, Claude?”

“Yeah?”

“Once you drop me off, where will you go?” 

Claude could hear the hidden question in her voice: _ Are you going back to Almyra, or will you stay? _

It would be easy to go back. His time at the Officer’s Academy had come to a close, and with a war underway, it would be natural for him to return to Almyra. But what would that accomplish? He’d barely made any progress as is. 

“I’ll head back to my grandfather’s estate.” He’d already endured the rumors and bitter words for a couple years; what were a few more? Besides, it wasn’t like returning to Almyra would fix that. No matter where he went, he’d get the same treatment. At least in Fodlan, he had a chance of changing that, war or not. 

Hilda’s body relaxed beside his before laying down. “So we _ will _ see each other again, right?”

“Without a doubt.” In truth, Claude couldn’t make such a guarantee. If he said it with enough confidence, though, maybe some higher power would pity him and make it so. 

Hilda tugged at his sleeve and pulled him down into a hug. This wasn’t unusual for her; she’d always been the touchy type. He’d taken these hugs for granted, though. How long would it be before he could get another? 

“Promise?” she asked. 

“Promise.”

Even after a bloody battle, Hilda’s hair smelled sweet. Whatever soap she used worked wonders. His eyes threatened to close and not open again for a long while. He took one last look at the sky. 

_ What a sap. _

Under the stars, on a muddy plain, with a gash in his ear and an imperial pegasus a few feet away, he felt compelled to blurt it out. He’d deal with the consequences later. 

“I’m Almyran.” 

“Okay.” She didn’t tease him, didn’t feign ignorance, didn’t ask any further questions, didn’t announce that she’d known for ages now, though that was definitely the case. Her simple acceptance tempted him to tell her the entire truth then and there, but he stopped himself. She had enough on her mind, and he’d be lying to himself if he thought himself ready. 

Nevertheless, in that moment, he understood what Cyril meant when he spoke about Rhea. One country had Rhea, and the other didn’t, and the same went for Hilda. For the time being, he’d rather stay in the one that did. 

* * *

He wasn’t sure what had triggered it. Maybe a near death experience did this to everyone. Maybe Hilda’s soap had been a potion in disguise. Whatever it was, in the back of his mind, far after he’d left the Goneril estate and right before he reached the Riegan estate, Claude came to a realization, one that scared him almost as much as the impending war with the Empire. Maybe if he weren’t so busy dreading the treatment he’d face once he reached his grandfather’s home, he would have thought about it more. For now, he pushed it down to the bottom of his brain and figured it was best left for another time. But still, it remained, and every few days for the next few years he would stop and consider, for the briefest of moments, that maybe, just maybe, _ he was in love with Hilda Valentine Goneril. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that ends the academy phase. Next chapter will be rather short and will be the transition into the timeskip. Because it should be the easiest and shortest chapter to date (I'll end up eating those words, I swear), I'm hoping to get it in for the last day of hilclaude week, June 13th. No guarantees, but I'm really hyped up right now, so I'll try my best. 
> 
> I'm kind of falling out of love with my chapter titles right now, so might end up changing those too. The actual content won't go through any revisions, though. 
> 
> Til next time!


	9. "Eternally at your service (except currently), Claude."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even apart, Hilda and Claude can't seem to keep their thoughts to themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I entered a weird writing funk this week, so sorry I didn't get this in earlier, but here it is! This is meant as a transitionary chapter into the timeskip, so I figured it would be interesting if ya'll got to see some of the letters Claude and Hilda wrote each other during those five years. There are obviously letters missing, but I wasn't about to write five years worth of letters. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Dear Claude, 

I hope you arrived in the Riegan estate okay. As promised, I made you some new earrings. I know you typically only wear one, but I thought I’d send you a pair so that you’ll always have an extra one. I probably should’ve made them silver if I wanted to replicate them correctly, but I honestly think gold suits you better. Of course, if you insist on it, I’ll make you some silver ones another time. 

Has there been any news about the Professor? If anyone would know, it’d be you. I can’t say I’m hopeful, but any news would be appreciated. While I’m at it, have you heard from Igantz, Raphael, or Leonie? Lorenz says Marianne and Lysithea are fine, but he has no idea about the other three. I’m not one to pray to the Goddess for my troubles, but I’ve found myself tempted as of late. 

Do write to me often. I can already tell that once the novelty of being back home wears off, I’ll be bored out of my mind. 

Stay safe, 

_Hilda_ <3

* * *

Dear Hilda, 

Thanks for the earrings! They’re perfect, don’t worry about it. Gold has always sort of been my color. I’ve been busy with preparations for the war with the Empire. The lords are always dropping by and making a mess out of everything, so I can’t promise I’ll be able to respond to everything you send in a timely fashion, but I’ll certainly try. Can’t have my dear Hilda bored, after all. 

The pegasus we stole has been adopted by one of the Riegan soldiers. This is probably useless information, but I thought you should know. As for the Professor and the rest, I’m just as clueless as you are. An Alliance force returned to Garreg Mach to gauge damage and casualties. I asked them to keep a look out for any of them, but they didn’t find any trace of them. I guess that means they probably made it out. I don’t like to ponder on any alternatives, so I’m sure they’re fine. 

Give your brother my regards. 

Love, 

_Claude_

* * *

Dear Claude, 

You’re right. They’re probably fine. This is Leonie we’re talking about, right? 

I’m sorry I haven’t been able to go see you. I’m sure you’ve seen loads of my brother already, but whenever he meets with your grandfather, he refuses to bring me along. He claims I should be “prepared to defend the border” or something. Considering it's unlikely he’ll ever let me out of here, I do hope you can visit me here instead. I’m really starting to miss you. If you ever find the time, my door is always open. 

Love,

_Hilda_

* * *

Dear Hilda, 

I’d love to visit. I don’t know if that’s a possibility, unfortunately. My grandfather has recently become ill. Though he’s still working, he’s been leaning on me a lot more. I’ll be sure to take some time off to see you once he’s better, but until then, you’re gonna have to keep yourself busy, I’m afraid. 

Why not practice using Freikugel? I’m sure your brother would love to help you out with that. Or, if you’re up for it, take up flying again? I promise it’s a useful skill. I’d recommend you some books, but we both know you’d completely ignore them. Regardless, I’m sure you’ll come up with something to keep you busy. 

Eternally at your service (except currently),

_Claude _

* * *

Dear Claude, 

Only you would recommend I do something productive during these times. Though we never formally graduated, we’re done with school! If I wanted to keep studying, I would have gone to another one. Granted, I’m not entirely sure how many of them are still running at the moment. Besides, asking my brother to help with anything will only enlarge his ego. I think I’ll just have to make do while you’re away. 

On a separate note, have you heard from Lorenz lately? I’m not sure if you two have been writing to each other, but lately he’s stopped responding to my letters. My brother’s told me that Count Gloucester has chosen to side with the Empire, so I suppose that it can’t really be helped. Still, I hope he’s okay…

Speaking of which, how’s your grandfather faring? Reckon you’ll be able to visit soon?

Hoping you’re well, 

_Hilda_

* * *

Dear Hilda, 

Lorenz wouldn’t answer my letters even if I did write to him. I know as much as you do. I met with his father a little before he formally defected to the Empire, though. Of course, he only came to scream and complain and make excuses for himself. I can’t imagine it’s easy to live with someone like that, but Lorenz is his father’s pride and joy, so I assume he’s fine. I don’t like the idea of having to oppose Count Gloucester, but it might be inevitable. We’re still trying to figure out what our next plan is. 

I can’t say my grandfather’s doing any better. He refuses to admit it, but I think my old man’s body is preparing to shut down for good. He can still go about his day, but he’s slower, more tired, and sleeps for hours on end. When he goes, he’ll go peacefully, but he’ll be gone nonetheless. For the time being, I’ll have to postpone that visit. 

None of this you heard from me, okay?

Sorry about that, 

_Claude_

* * *

Dear Claude, 

Oh. I didn’t realize it was so serious. If you need me for anything, let me know. Whatever I would have written otherwise sounds kind of inappropriate now, so I’ll keep it short.

Take care, 

_Hilda_

* * *

Dear Claude, 

I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather. Even with your early warning, news of his death came as a shock to everyone here. I assume you’ve become the new leader of the Alliance? An official notice hasn’t arrived yet, but I know how quick you are to act. 

I know you’ll do a great job; I don’t doubt you for a second. But do me a favor, yeah? Remember to eat and sleep, maybe even take a bath every once in a while. Also, remember that you have to look presentable if you want any of the other nobles to pay attention to you. Anything else may be asking too much of you, especially without me around, but you can surely handle that much. 

More importantly, don’t you dare forget about me, okay? No matter how busy you get. 

Sending my condolences, 

_Hilda_

* * *

Dear Hilda, 

Thanks. I can’t say I was ever very close to my grandfather, but I didn’t think he’d leave us so soon. You’re right about me becoming the leader, though you’ll already know that by the time this reaches you. 

This definitely means that visiting you is out of the question for now. That said, don’t worry. I’d never be able to forget about you. As for the basic health and hygiene, I’ll try my best. No promises, though. 

Until next time, 

Leader of the Leicester Alliance, _Claude von Riegan_

* * *

Dear Claude,

I’ve been thinking about what to write you for ages now, but I’m afraid I can’t come up with anything that’ll make you smile. All I’ve done is patrol with my brother and participate in a few skirmishes here and there. Every time we get news, it’s never good. I’m sure you’re inundated with unpleasant tasks and thoughts, so I don’t want to be another echo. Unfortunately, there isn’t much else to say. 

Goneril territory won’t be affected by this war for some time yet. Still, at the rate this war is going, it’ll eventually reach us. I have faith that we’ll be able to hold them off somehow. You’re our leader, and you’ve never led us astray before. 

None of this is useful or eye-opening, but I wanted to write to you anyway. You’re the only one who makes it feel like things will turn out okay. 

Don’t let that go to your head, 

_Hilda_

* * *

Dear Claude,

Did you get my last letter? I waited for weeks, but never got a response. Maybe something went wrong in the delivery? No matter. If you were dead, I’d know. I’ll just send you another and hope this one makes it there okay. 

I actually saw Leonie the other day. She joined a mercenary group and passed through Goneril territory while I was out on patrol with my brother. It seems like she’s doing well, though her hair is going through this awful mullet phase at the moment. She says she’s trying to grow it out, which I’d never considered, but I think it’ll look good once it gets a little longer. She says Raphael and Ignatz are also fine, as far as she knows. It seems she was able to get them out of the battle back then. I don’t know how much you know about the situation in Faerghus, but apparently it’s really bad. I didn’t get to talk to her too much, but it was nice to catch up, regardless. It’s a shame I can’t really send her letters the same way I do with you. 

I hope you haven’t burned yourself out. I know it must be hard trying to wrangle the Alliance lords on your own. I know I’m not usually the one to offer, but if you ever need any help, let me know. As long as it’s not too hard, anyway. 

Wishing you well, 

_Hilda _

* * *

Dear Hilda, 

Sorry about that. I meant to write you back, but this war has taken a toll on my memory. I’ll try to keep up as best I can. 

I’m glad to hear Leonie is doing well. I always believed she’d made it out, but a confirmation certainly eases my worries. It’s a shame there is no way of contacting her myself. 

As for your offer. I’m fine, really. I’ve been keeping up with meals (mostly), and I take a bath at least once every few days. My sleeping schedule needs some tuning, but I think I’ll get there eventually. Every time I consider just giving up, your disappointed face drifts into my mind and I’m able to stop myself. Thanks for that. 

You just keep yourself busy for the time being. I’ll be sure to let you know if I need to make mincemeat out of someone. 

Yours, 

_Claude von Riegan_

* * *

Dear Claude, 

This will be my fourth letter this month. It might seem like overkill, but I hope you enjoy reading them anyway, even if you don’t end up responding. Things are busy in the Goneril estate, but I can’t imagine how hectic it must be on your end. My father and brother have been keeping me away from any of their affairs. They just send me out on patrol every once in a while and more or less ignore me the rest of the time. I should feel grateful for this, and for the most part I am, but it’s gotten so boring lately that I kind of feel left out too. 

I’ve been keeping myself occupied by making lots of jewelry. I’ve been giving it out for free to anyone I come across because it’s starting to pile up. Every once in a while, I’ll also swing around Freikugel. That thing is still super gross, but I can handle it a lot better now. I’ve also been practicing other things, but I’ll keep those a secret for now. 

Since you haven’t been writing back, you better be ready with a good story the next time we meet. 

Sincerely,

_Hilda _

* * *

Dear Claude, 

I haven’t heard from you in a while. I’m angry about it, naturally, but I understand why you aren’t replying. I haven’t seen you in so long, though. As sappy as it sounds, I really do miss you. That year at the academy really spoiled me. I’ve never complained about being stuck in this house for years, but it’s finally gotten to me these last few years. After that little taste of freedom, I don’t think I can handle being here much longer. This house is suffocating. 

I’m so glad that I’ll be out soon. Please tell me you’ll be at the monastery next month. I’m not sure how I’ll convince my brother to let me go, especially alone, but I’ll definitely find a way. As the one who proposed that reunion, you better be there. Otherwise, you’ll miss out on my surprise!

I’ll be sure to give you the biggest hug when I see you. Look forward to it. 

See you soon!

_Hilda Valentine Goneril_

* * *

Dear Hilda, 

I probably won’t send this, just like I haven’t sent the last five letters I’ve written. It helps to write them, though, so apologies in advance. 

I’m so fucking tired. Day in and out, I’m busy strategizing the Alliance’s next move, entertaining nobles who have either given up on themselves or think they’ve come up with the next revolutionary solution. I only sleep for a few hours, and I’ve resorted to spraying perfume on myself so I don’t smell. None of them smell as good as yours, though. All my meals are eaten in my office, which is currently overrun with books and documents, none of which I particularly want to read. It’s a good thing I practiced so much at the Academy, because it would take me ages to get through them all otherwise. 

If I told you all this, you’d surely bolt over here and tell me to take a break. You’d force me to take a nap, and if I pushed hard enough, you’d take it with me. Maybe that’s why I like you so much. Why I still remember your face so clearly. 

You’ve already offered your help so many times, though, and I keep declining it. No matter how long you keep saying the same thing, I’ll ignore it. 

Don’t get me wrong; I’ve learned my lesson. I know I can’t do this all alone, that I should depend on my friends more. Truthfully, I do intend on asking for your help, along with that of everyone else. Sooner rather than later, I’ll make some ridiculous requests, I’ll probably turn some people against me, and I’ll probably have to make some decisions I would never have made otherwise. 

When that time comes, I want you to be by my side. But until then, I want you out of harm’s way. As much as I’d love for you to be here, for us to meet again, I have to leave you alone for a little while longer. Because when I finally call out for you, I’m going to ask more of you than anyone has or ever will. This is all a fancy way of saying I’m stalling. 

There are things in Fodlan I need to protect. For the sake of the Alliance, for the sake of my dreams. If I could keep you away from it all, I would. Unfortunately, I need your help. Or maybe that’s just an excuse for wanting you here with me. It’s been a lonely five years without you. 

Please forgive me for making you worry. 

Forever yours, 

_Khalid _

* * *

Dear Hilda, 

I’ll be there. 

Love, 

_Claude_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we are on to the reunion! I don't actually have any plans for the next update (in terms of when it'll be posted). I'll probably take a short break to work on some other things, but I'll be back sooner than later. Looks like I'm not going back to school until January, so can't use that as an excuse anymore lol. 
> 
> Til next time!


	10. "How could I possibly say no to you?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude returns to Garreg Mach after five years to a multitude of surprises. Some of them are pleasant ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! As you have probably noticed, I changed the chapter titles again because I didn't like the new ones either lol. These are here to stay, though! They've all been replaced by quotes that reflect what either Claude or Hilda "like to hear." (This is not nearly as clever as I think they are, but bear with me). 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the reunion!

Surprises, in Claude’s case, had rarely ever been pleasant ones. Most surprises he’d received had come in the form of attempted back stabbings. Occasionally, they were deaths instead of death threats, like his grandfather’s. Lately, it was news of ongoing war. In this instance, a surprise meant bandits overrunning Garreg Mach, the same place where he’d intended to have a long-awaited class reunion. 

On the other hand, fate had thrown him a bone when he received one surprise he couldn’t have been happier to receive: Teach. It didn’t feel real to come face to face with the Professor he’d feared dead for years, all in one piece and looking like they hadn’t aged a day. Yet there they were, the two of them leaning against the wall of the reception hall, downing the last of Claude’s leftover food. 

“Phew! I. Am. Stuffed. Even the most humble of meals tastes great with the right company,” he said. 

Teach merely nodded and smiled, ever one of few words. They really hadn’t changed in the slightest. 

“By the way, Teach, do you remember the night before the ball? I know it was five years ago… But we promised that the Golden Deer House would reunite during the millennium festival.” Claude gazed up at the sky for the hundredth time that day. The sun had already all but set. “Today's the day we promised to meet up... but no one's here.”

“It’s still early,” Teach said matter-of-factly. 

“True, there’s still some daylight left.” Claude hardly believed his own words. Had they all forgotten? Maybe the war had taken a harder toll than he’d first thought. Hilda, at the very least, should have arrived by now. Had Holst convinced her to stay put at the last minute? 

“Let's wait just a little longer,” he thought aloud, if only to soothe his own worries. “You never know... Maybe someone will show up after all.” 

It only took a few passing moments for Claude to take it back. If he waited any longer, his head would self-combust with doubts and cynical thoughts. In Almyra, one of his mother’s favorite phrases had been “patience is a virtue.” Claude had always rolled his eyes at her words, but perhaps the time to admit she was right had come. 

He desperately racked his brain for a distraction, anything that wouldn’t remind him of his classmates or Hilda. When all he could think of were the piles of paperwork he’d abandoned in Derdriu, he knew he’d have to find another solution. 

The faint echo of a faraway shout gave him an idea. 

“Hey, Teach... Just waiting around sounds boring, so why don't we get in some exercise. You know, help with digestion and stuff. You must be in bad shape if you've been sleeping for five years. It'll do you good to get your body moving again.”

“You want to work out?” Teach shifted their head to one side. Oh, how Claude had missed his teacher’s confused musings. 

“Something like that. Look, if you’ll come with me, you’ll understand. Oh, and don’t forget your weapons, okay?” Claude stood and helped the Professor up to their feet. “I want to make sure neither your leadership nor your skill with a blade have dulled.”

It wasn’t what Claude would normally suggest, but he’d do anything if it meant he wouldn’t have to be alone with his thoughts for a while. If he could just make it through the day, as long as luck remained on his side, he wouldn’t need to do  _ anything  _ alone anymore. 

* * *

As much as Claude loved his bow, arrows had never been such a pain in the ass. He’d rid himself of most of the pesky archers with Failnaught, and the Professor had done a good job at finishing the others off before they could get too close. Fortunately, they had no trouble wielding that sword of theirs, even after their supposed half decade long nap.

That said, he’d never been pelted by arrows while on a wyvern before. He’d been used to stepping out of the way whenever he saw one, but maneuvering a thousand pound dragon in midair proved to be more of a challenge than he’d thought. These bandits had caught on to that quick, taking any chance they got at shooting at his steed. 

It soon became apparent to him that the two of them wouldn’t be able to overtake the bandits on their own. The bandits would retreat once their numbers were decimated further, but giving chase with just him and Teach seemed a futile effort. He may have overestimated the power of two people against an entire gang of bandits, even if said bandits were as disorganized and inexperienced as this lot happened to be. 

Once it was safe to do so, he swooped in to tell his teacher, “Maybe we should let the rest go. I think they got the message.”

Teach sighed. They clearly didn’t like the idea of leaving the job only halfway done. Claude could sympathize, but one had to recognize when retreat was the best option. Before he could press any further, however, a voice that made his heart skip a beat for all the wrong reasons rang out loud and clear.

“The barbarity is even worse than the rumors. On my honor as a noble, I will expel these ruffians!”

_ Lorenz?  _ Out of all of his classmates, he had pegged Lorenz as most likely to skip the reunion. Not only had his family sided with the Empire, but Claude hadn’t gotten the impression that Lorenz had any reason to come back. Apparently he’d been wrong. He wasn’t sure whether to add this to the list of pleasant surprises or not. 

A second voice, deeper, yet still recognizable, followed close behind. “Today was supposed to be a happy day, but the monastery is in such disrepair…”

Though Claude couldn’t risk looking back to see for himself, the arrow that flew past his head was all the confirmation he needed. With both Lorenz and Ignatz in the fray, how could he give up now? 

“Spoke too soon, I guess,” he told Teach before flying higher up. He only got one shot in before he heard the next set of voices.

“Over there… is that the Professor? And the others?” Even among the sounds of weapons clashing and yelling bandits, Hilda’s voice rang in his ears like a melody. 

Claude barely heard Leonie over the beating of his heart. “Professor! You’re alive! Guess we’d better handle this before I celebrate though, huh?”

If he weren’t so occupied with these bandits, he would have turned tail and tackled Hilda to the ground. For now, though, he had to make sure they both survived the ordeal. “You finally made it! I suppose virtue still exists in this crazy world after all.” 

It wasn’t long before Raphael, Marianne, and Lysithea arrived as well. Why they had all decided to show up at practically the same time was beyond him, but he wouldn’t question its convenience now. 

Teach’s familiar guidance soon had them all fighting together as if no time had passed. They were so in sync, in fact, that Claude momentarily forgot about his little arrow problem. He should have known better than to have flown into a brick cleft with only one way out, but his instincts from his infantry days had tricked him into seeking cover. Claude barely had time to brace himself as a stray arrow flew his way. If he was lucky, it would land through an arm and not his skull. 

Fortunately, Hilda reached the arrow first. The tip of Freikugel dislodged the arrow from its path, causing it to hit the brick wall beside him. 

Claude blinked. He wiped at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Hilda blocked his path, riding confidently on a brown wyvern. She bore no sign of sickness or fear, only that threatening look she got whenever she was ready to win a fight. To some, the sight of a small, pink woman riding a huge draconic monster would be amusing. To Claude, it was singlehandedly the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed. 

“Watch it, Claude!” Hilda reprimanded, diving away a second later to take care of the archer. “I can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?”

Their escape from the battle of Garreg Mach had proven that Hilda’s squeamish tendencies towards flying were purely psychological, but he’d never have anticipated her to fight so naturally atop a wyvern. Judging by the way she swerved around the archer’s blind spot and finished him off in one fell swoop, this wasn’t a new development. 

“Was that the surprise?” he shouted after her once he regained control of his thoughts. 

Hilda turned around for a second to wink. “Impressed?” 

“Delighted, really. Think you can end this quickly?”

“As long as it doesn’t take too much effort.”

“For you, I doubt that’ll be a problem.”

True to his expectations, the fight didn’t last long afterwards. Between their mounted attacks, Lysithea’s blasts, Teach’s blade, and everyone else’s combined efforts, victory had been pretty much guaranteed. Now, having successfully routed the bandits, they finally had the chance to conduct the reuniting part of the reunion.

“Ugh, what gives Professor?” Hilda spoke first, wiping off the dirt from her clothes. Her wyvern waited patiently aways away alongside Claude’s.

“I was so excited to see everyone again, and then this happens…” said Lysithea, her familiar frown plastered on her face. Claude had to make a double take to confirm that she had indeed surpassed Hilda in height. 

Leonie stretched out her arms. “ I'm still tired from the long journey. How did it come to this?”

“Let’s all take a moment to catch our breath,” Ignatz suggested. 

“If you've got the spare time to play with those guys, the least you could do is prepare some tea,” Hilda continued. 

“Blame Claude.” Teach threw him one of their cheeky grins. Well, Claude had always interpreted them as cheeky, anyway. With Teach, it was always a little hard to tell. 

“Come on, those guys were thieves!” Claude argued. “We couldn't just let them get away. It seems they've been taking advantage of the church's absence and doing whatever they please here.” He normally would have waited for the others to show up before heading in, sure, but he could leave that bit out. 

Marianne gave a small chuckle and spoke her first words, “ In any case, um... I'm glad that all of you are well.”

“That’s the spirit, Marianne!” Ignatz encouraged. 

“That was fun! In fact, I wouldn't mind romping around some more!” Raphael said.

Before Claude could shut that idea down, Lorenz did him the honors by changing the subject himself. 

“So, you were alive this whole time, Professor. I am not surprised. In fact, that is why I came here,” he said. 

_ Ah, so that explains it.  _

“And it doesn't look like time has rusted your skills. That's a relief!” Leonie patted Lorenz’ back so hard he fumbled forward.

Though Claude expected him to protest, he did no such thing. Instead, the noble gave a smug smile, beaming with a pride Leonie surely never meant to inspire. 

“I'm just glad everyone's alive and well.” Claude brought the attention back to himself. “On that note, let's move this reunion party somewhere else.” 

Everyone agreed remaining outdoors would only attract unwanted attention, so they began their move to the cathedral, trying to catch up as much as they could on the way. 

Hilda’s attention had been taken by Marianne while Leonie pelted him with questions. The temptation to brush her off and steal Hilda for himself nearly overtook him, but Claude figured if he could wait five years, he could wait another hour. That wouldn’t stop him from stealing glances at her back, though. 

* * *

For a moment, as his former classmates gathered around him in the ruined cathedral, Claude considered calling the whole thing off. He could have a fun night or two, see them off, and return to Derdriu to fight an increasingly losing battle with pleasant memories intact. He’d return to his solitude atop a mountain of paperwork and weeks of meetings that led nowhere. More importantly, his comrades could return to their normal lives, hopefully away from the battlefield. How selfish of him, really, to ask so much of his friends. 

As if reading his thoughts, Leonie elbowed his arm. “Spit it out already, Claude. You’ve obviously got something to say.” 

Claude took a look at Hilda and found her looking at him too. They only made eye contact for a few brief seconds before she returned to her conversation with Marianne, but it was all Claude needed to understand he couldn’t stand missing them any longer. 

_ She’s right.  _

Claude took a deep breath. Hadn’t he made his decision long ago? Besides, there was no way they would let him do it all on his own, right? 

“Now that we've dealt with those violent bandits, we could potentially use this place as our base of operations again,” he announced. 

Hilda raised an eyebrow. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“I'm talking about the Leicester Alliance taking over Garreg Mach Monastery. After all, it's right in the middle of Fódlan. It's a critical strategic location.”

Lysithea raised her voice. “Are you suggesting that we fight back against the Empire?”

Lorenz narrowed his eyes. “Aren't you getting a bit ahead of yourself? The Alliance is in complete discord at present.” 

Just as Claude had feared, Lorenz would be his toughest customer. If he hadn’t shown up at all, he wouldn’t have needed to deal with this, but the Gloucester boy just couldn’t give him a break, could he?

“And, as leader of the Imperial faction of the Alliance, isn't Count Gloucester, your father, the main cause of that discord?” Claude laid it on thick. 

Lorenz squirmed. Claude would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it, if only slightly. 

“I... Yes, that is true. It was inevitable. Our house's territory is close to Imperial land, after all. Had we not consented to vassalage under the Empire, they would have invaded immediately.”

“Naturally. And to be clear, I have no problem with your house maintaining its Imperial ties until we're sufficiently prepared to revolt,” Claude gave him a break. Then, addressing the rest of the group, he added, “The Empire is the cause of the infighting. If we rid ourselves of them, the situation should resolve itself. That's why I'm thinking we should make this our base, raise up an army, and stir up some trouble for the Empire.”

“Now you're talking! Sounds like fun!” Raphael exclaimed. 

“So then, Mr. Leader Man. Does this mean you intend to rope us into your little scheme?” Hilda teased.

“Leader man?” The Professor asked. 

“Hm? Ah. My grandfather passed away. That means yours truly is officially the leader of the Alliance,” Claude explained. In fact, there was a lot he would need to fill his teacher in on. 

“If we had a more reliable leader, perhaps the Alliance would not have been divided…” Lorenz chided despite Claude’s previous jabs. 

Claude rolled his eyes. “Think what you will. All I need to know is if you're in or you're out.”

“I'm happy to lend a hand. I won't let those Imperial dogs set foot in Alliance territory! I couldn't bear it if my village got caught up in the chaos of war,” Leonie said. 

_ Check.  _

Raphael pumped a fist. “I'll fight too! I've gotta protect my little sis!” 

_ Check. _

Lysithea’s eyes wandered to the floor, but her voice was determined. “ I will join as well. After all, House Ordelia was once dragged into an Imperial revolt. It ruined us.”

Lorenz nodded. “Ah, of course. I understand your motivation.”

_ Check. _

Ignatz’ eyes lit aflame. “I'll fight too... It's time to take responsibility for my own future!”

_ Check. _

Marianne spoke next. “I... I don't want to run anymore. I hope I'll be of use to everyone…”

Ignatz cheered her on. “We can do anything if we work together, Marianne!”

_ Check. _

“What about you, Lorenz? Are you going to go back home to your scary father or what?” Hilda challenged, arms crossed. 

Everyone looked over at Lorenz expectantly. Under everyone’s gaze, Lorenz sighed. “We cannot rely on Claude's scheming to lead us to victory. Therefore, I will remain. It is my duty to ensure Claude does not worsen the situation in the Alliance.”

_ Eh, I’ll accept it. Check.  _

“All of us are fighting for a different reason, but we share a common enemy,” he rallied. “If we don't act, the Empire will crush us eventually. I say we stop them before they have the chance! So, Teach... Will you help as well?”

Teach hesitated. In a low voice they muttered, “I’d rather search for Rhea than fight.”

Claude wouldn’t let the Professor get off that easily, not after they’d just returned. “All the more reason to join us. Admit it. You're not going to be able to do much on your own. With you on our side, the church will join us as well. That makes fighting the Empire a moral cause, which means it will be easier to rally support. Above all, your knowledge and strength are indispensable if we hope to stand a chance against the Imperial army. Without you, my schemes are nothing. Just words. Please... Take all of that into consideration as you decide.”

_ Tentative check.  _

“You're really laying it all on the table, aren't you, Claude?” Hilda smiled. “Well, all that aside, this place is a mess. We can't very well make our base in a ruin! And repairing it sounds like a lot of work... I wonder if anyone would be willing to help us out with that?”

“Is it vain of me to assume this means you’re in too?” Claude asked. After all those letters, he knew what the answer would be. Even so, he couldn’t help but hold his breath. 

Hilda rolled her eyes. “I thought that was a given, Claude. How could I possibly say no to you?”

Claude breathed a sigh of relief.

_ Check. _

* * *

The next pleasant surprise arrived with the Knights of Seiros. He’d already been more than satisfied with the power of one goddess-fused teacher, but the addition of a small-scale army to defend Garreg Mach and launch his offensive was a welcome one indeed. Of course, the festivities and sweet reunions he’d planned for the evening had been replaced with defense strategies and meetings with Seteth. Hilda had gone off to make preparations for repairing the monastery, something she chose to do on her own. Claude never thought there would be a day where she volunteered for anything, but he was grateful all the same. 

Naturally, this all meant he’d lost sight of her before he could ever really get a good look. By the time he’d been released from his duties, it took all of his strength to just walk up the dorm steps. They’d agreed on taking up their old rooms, seeing as they were largely intact. His old belongings had been ransacked ages ago, but the larger furniture, including the bed, had been left behind. After some cleaning, it would be more than serviceable. 

After removing his shoes and coat, he walked back out. Though his work day had ended, there was still something that needed to be done before he went to bed. Leaning on the wall directly beside his room, his eyes remained glued on the hallway staircase. 

He’d waited five years to see Hilda again. One more night should have been a piece of cake. Unfortunately, patience was a virtue he did not possess. 

* * *

Claude’s eyes fluttered open when he felt a hand on his cheek. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised you can fall asleep like that, not after the stunt you pulled after the Battle of the Eagle and Lion,” Hilda greeted him, tired smile on her face. Judging by the smell and her damp hair, she’d just returned from a bath. 

Despite her obvious exhaustion, her eyes sparkled like stars. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but her eyelashes draped over her eyes like royal curtains, partially obscuring her flower-shaped irises. Her lips curved at just the right angles, right up to her rosy cheeks. His dreams may have been bleeding into reality, but regardless of what the truth was, there was no doubting that Hilda was as gorgeous as he remembered. 

Claude returned the smile with a yawn. He’d never fallen asleep standing up, but he’d fallen asleep in far more uncomfortable positions before. “You really should’ve known better.”

“Is it too vain of me to assume you were waiting for me?”

“Not if you’re right.”

“Am I?”

“Take a guess.”

“You want me to come in?”

Claude nodded, his eyes threatening to close again. He lazily opened the door for her. As soon as they had both walked in and closed the door, he tackled her onto the bed, holding her tight. How he’d found the strength to do so, especially against Hilda, was beyond him. 

“Claude!” Hilda laughed, returning his embrace. 

“Don’t complain,” he said, tightening his grip. He had to make sure she was real. For all he knew, he was still out sleeping in the hallway. “You were the one who suggested the bear hug.”

“You’re heavy, though!” Hilda protested from under him. 

“Fine, fine.” Claude lifted himself off her and crashed alongside her on the bed. 

For a moment, the two stared at each other, laughing at the stupidity of it all. Claude wasn’t sure if it was pure joy or just lack of sleep. Probably both. At least this time they wouldn’t have Felix pounding on their wall, and he couldn’t care less what Lorenz had to say. 

“So, a wyvern, huh?” Claude teased. “I’m guessing that’s the surprise?”

“Neat, huh?”

Neat was an understatement. “You were so against it before. Why the sudden change of heart?” 

Hilda shrugged. “I just realized flying is useful. You ride one now too, why are you questioning me?”

Even in their years apart, Hilda had seemingly picked up one of Claude’s bad habits: half-hearted excuses. “Because I’ve always liked flying. Your stomach definitely didn’t back in our academy days.” 

Hilda rolled her eyes and changed the subject, her cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment. “What’s with the hair, by the way?” 

Claude winked. “You said this made me look like the Leader of the Alliance, right? I just took your advice.”

“But you hated it.”

_ I did.  _

“I never said that.”

“I bet you still do.”

_ I do.  _

“Bet then.” 

“Well, whether you admit it or not, I suppose the only one suffering is you.” Hilda booped his nose. “I gain a nice view regardless.”

Claude liked the sound of that a little too much. “Really now?”

“I’m not too sure about the beard, though.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure it’ll look a lot better once it’s actually grown in.”

“Having trouble?”

“What can I say? Fodlan genes keep getting in the way.”

“I don’t know, my brother’s got a pretty impressive one. You might be blaming the wrong thing.”

Hilda rambled on for a few more seconds, but Claude could hardly hear her. His eyes kept focusing on the way her lips moved. He wanted to touch them. He’d need to stay awake another few hours before he pulled a stunt like that, though. 

“I missed talking to you,” Claude interrupted. 

Hilda pouted. “You could’ve written to me more if that were the case.”

Claude sighed. “You’re still mad about that.”

_ “Just a little.” _ Hilda punched his arm. It hurt. “You’re lucky I like you enough to forgive you.”

A potential bruise was probably a lot less than he deserved, so he didn’t argue. “I’m honored, truly.”

Hilda took one of his hands and smiled. “That said, I missed talking to you too.”

“We have all night.” Claude’s voice slurred. The sudden burst of energy he’d received minutes before had started to wear off. 

“Seriously? I’m tired!” Hilda pushed him away and stood up. “And by the looks of it, so are you.” 

Claude couldn’t argue with that. As much as he wanted to keep talking to her, his eyes wouldn’t last that long. “Sleepover then?”

Hilda let out an exaggerated sigh. “You really can’t wait?”

“I really can’t.” The words were out of his mouth before he had time to consider them. This whole sleep deprivation thing was dangerous for his tongue, it seemed. 

“Okay, then.” 

Claude patted the space beside him on the bed for her to come back, to which she obliged him. She currently didn’t have anything else to change into anyway, so they’d just have to make do.

“This bed is a lot smaller than I remember,” Hilda complained as she adjusted herself underneath the old sheets. 

“I haven’t gotten any taller, though, and by the looks of it, you haven’t either.” Claude shifted as close to the edge of the bed as he could without falling off. 

“Maybe not, but you certainly got  _ wider.”  _ Hilda squeezed one of his arms for emphasis. “You couldn’t make time to write to me, but you set some aside to bulk up, huh?”

“Heh, guess so.” Without anyone around to talk to, he’d resorted to alternative forms of stress-relief. “I should really get my priorities in order.”

“Damn right.” Hilda turned to her other side and leaned her back into his chest. 

Claude didn’t bother blowing out the candles. He’d let them burn out on their own. Right now, the only thing he wanted to do was sleep. There was only one more matter of business left. 

“Hey, Hilda, about what I told you the last time we saw each other-”

“Please, Claude. My lips are sealed.”

“I’m not worried about that.” 

“Then what?”

“I just wanted to thank you. For taking it so well.”

Hilda’s voice softened. “There’s nothing to thank. I’m just grateful you trusted me enough to tell me.”

“It’s not like you didn’t already know.”

“Well, obviously. You don’t do as good a job at hiding it as you think you do.”

“You reckon anyone else has caught on?”

“I could probably bet on a few.”

Claude groaned. 

“Don’t be like that! It shouldn’t even matter, since they still showed up and they’re still willing to fight on your side, right?”

Claude nodded. “Right.” Misplaced paranoia would do him no favors. 

“Now, I’m tired. Goodnight.”

As Hilda leaned farther back, he caught a whiff of her hair. He’d kept the memory of their time in Myrrdin close to his heart, and he frowned in confusion as he realized she’d switched shampoos. It still smelled nice, and very much like Hilda, but after years of such sweet memories, it was a little disappointing to be greeted with a new scent. 

_ When did she switch shampoos? _

He figured he’d ask. “Wait, one more thing.” 

“Yeah?”

It occurred to Claude at that moment how creepy his question sounded. He’d much sooner drop dead than have Hilda tease him about being a closet pervert or whatever conclusion she’d jump to. 

“Nevermind. I forgot.”

“Huh? That’s no fair!”

Claude closed his eyes. “Goodnight, Hilda.”

“You’ll be hearing from me in the morning, just y...” Hilda’s voice faded away as Claude finally let himself rest. 

It was the soundest he’d slept in five years. 

* * *

“I hope you two weren’t up to anything indecent last night.”

Claude looked up from his oatmeal to find Lorenz hovering over him. The stuff tasted awful, but it was all they’d managed to scrounge up for breakfast. Hilda had already organized for several people to go supplies shopping, which explained her absence when he’d woken up. 

“Pardon?”

“You and Hilda.”

“You would’ve heard something if we did, wouldn’t you?” Claude’s focus drifted back to his meal. He regretted it after the next bite. He missed stew. 

“I wasn’t there last night,” Lorenz explained. “I only saw Hilda retreat from your room this morning.”

“Oh?” Claude raised an eyebrow. “And where were  _ you, _ then?”

Lorenz’ cheeks reddened instantaneously. “A-answer my question first!” he stuttered. 

“I can assure you we did no such thing.” It’s not like either of them would have had the energy to anyway. “Besides, we’re just friends.”

“Friends, you say?” Lorenz took a seat opposite him. His face didn’t scrunch up when he dug into his oatmeal. 

Claude sighed. For as long as this war lasted at least. Probably even after that. Probably until the end of time, if he was being honest. Claude couldn’t stay in Fodlan forever, after all. 

“Yeah. Friends.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just now realized that this fic will reach its 1 year anniversary on the 31st. Originally I was going to say I wouldn't be updating for another month or so because I've got a big bang piece I really need to finish, but now I GOTTA. Of course, no guarantees, but I'll try my hardest to celebrate the anniversary with an update. 
> 
> This is also slowly devolving into a Claurenz slowburn friendship fic, and honestly I'm ok with that. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who continues to read and leave comments. They really make my day :)
> 
> Until next time!


	11. “I wanted to give you the world.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda has convinced herself it's okay if Claude forgets her birthday another year. She's lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy anniversary to What I Like to Hear! I can't believe I'm still writing this fucking story (I definitely thought it'd be done long before we got to this point), but we'll reach the end eventually.
> 
> Until then, enjoy!

Hilda sighed happily as the sweat rolled off her face. She leaned her head farther into her towel and closed her eyes. The cold winter months had made her miss the sauna more than she already had. Not even their recent visit to Aillel had discouraged her from accepting Lorenz and Leonie’s invitation, especially not on her birthday. 

“This really is the best gift, guys,” she said, stretching out her legs. “Thanks again. I can’t imagine what state this place was in after five years.” 

“It was definitely an undertaking, but you should be thanking Lorenz,” Leonie said. “He’s the one who came up with the idea to fix it up.”

Lorenz beamed at the praise. The steam and sweat only served to make his skin shine more than ever. Hilda envied it. 

“You did most of the work, though. All I did was pass you the tools,” he said. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you helped plenty,” Leonie objected. 

“Consider it a team effort,” Hilda settled. “I’m just happy I got to celebrate my birthday at all.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Lorenz asked. 

Hilda’s birthday had always been cause for a grand celebration back home. Holst would parade her around the estate, forcing the gardeners and cooks to cheer as he strutted around with her atop his broad shoulders. Afterwards, her entire family would take a trip to the nearest town to shop, the only time of the year she was ever allowed out of the Goneril estate (save for the occasional noble ball or meeting). The merchants in the nearby village would bring out their most expensive wares to sell, and Hilda would willingly fall into their money traps, buying all sorts of clothes and jewelry she knew couldn’t possibly cost as much as they claimed. The cooks would prepare her favorite dishes, and she’d eat until the excess of sweet buns lulled her to sleep. Year after year, her birthday had been the day she looked forward to the most. 

Of course, she’d had to make do with the dining hall food and a simple tea outing with Lorenz and Marianne when she’d enrolled at the Officer’s Academy, but even that had been far more exciting than the five birthdays that followed. Those had been spent either on the Almyran border or in her home, safe from the potentially abrasive villagers upset by war. 

This year, considering the circumstances, she would have been happy with a few compliments and a day off. After all, they all had far more important things to worry about than Hilda aging another year. 

“I just didn’t think there’d be any time for it,” she replied. “Glad I was wrong, though.”

“And it’s not over yet!” Leonie burst. “Just wait until Lysithea comes back with the cake.”

Hilda sat up and clapped her hands together. “Awww you got me a cake too?” 

“It wouldn’t be much of a birthday without one.” 

Lorenz frowned. “That was supposed to be a surprise.”

Leonie shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Please, she would’ve found out anyway.”

“She’s right,” Hilda agreed. The Golden Deer weren’t known for their subtlety, after all. “I already know Marianne and Raphael are up to something. I just hope it isn’t jewelry; Raphael’s kind of useless if I’m not around.” 

“I know for a fact Ignatz has something in the works too,” said Lorenz. 

“But how much you wanna bet Claude forgot again this year?” Leonie asked. 

“Oh, please don’t bring that up,” Lorenz groaned. “Lysithea already beat you to the punch. Unless Claude can prove he hasn’t, my desserts for the next month are hers.”

“You don’t think he’d forget again, do you?” Hilda frowned. 

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Leonie sighed. “You know that man can’t focus on more than one thing at a time. Right now, that one thing might be our march on Myrrdin.”

Lorenz groaned even louder and slid down the wall he’d been leaning on. “Don’t remind me of  _ that  _ either.” 

“I’m sure everything will turn out just fine.” Leonie patted Lorenz’ shoulder. “Following Claude this far has worked out fine, right? He’ll deal with your dad easy-peasy.”

“I suppose…” 

“Well, if he really is that busy, I guess I can forgive him if he does forget,” said Hilda. It had only been a few days since their return from Aillel, but taking on Myrrdin required careful planning and strategic thinking. The Professor had been in meetings with Claude and some of the other knights every night that week with no end in sight. 

“That’s not what I remember you saying last year,” said Lorenz. “I thought you would crush his skull in if he so much as looked at you for too long.” 

“Me? Never!” Hilda laughed. Though time and bias had certainly embellished Lorenz’ memory, he hadn’t strayed too far from the mark. 

The night of her 19th birthday had been spent writing an apology letter to Seteth for trying to break into the wine cellar. Though the fault had mostly lied with Sylvain for having persuaded her to go along with his awful plan to begin with, she had insisted she wouldn’t have been caught if Claude had accompanied her instead. Somehow, she’d convinced Claude of the same, and he ended up picking up a whole week’s worth of her chores to atone. 

Hilda said, “Seriously, though. I can wait another year if it really comes down to it. Between me and the war effort, I’d rather he focus on what really matters.”

“Wow, Hilda. That’s really… considerate of you,” said Leonie. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Say, Hilda, you and Claude  _ are _ just friends, right?” Lorenz asked before Leonie could answer. 

“Yeah? Isn’t that obvious?” Hilda raised an eyebrow. She’d been prepared for rumors about her and Claude’s relationship to spread during their academy days, but she had figured those days were over now that only her closest friends remained at the monastery. 

“Well, he wasn’t lying about that, then,” Lorenz muttered. 

Hilda inched closer to Lorenz, her curiosity piqued. “Why? What’d he tell you?”

“Forget it, it’s not important.” Lorenz blushed and looked away. “All I care about is that he ends up doing something, anything, to prove he hasn’t forgotten. For my sake as much as yours.”

Hilda sighed and laid back down on the bench. “Yeah, I hope so too.” 

* * *

Hilda twirled her pen between her fingers as she hovered above her sheet of paper. She found it much easier to come up with ideas when she could write under one of the garden pagodas, or by the pond. She’d even gotten Petra to help her into a tree once. Until the winter snow melted, however, the Golden Deer classroom would have to do. 

She could always write about their latest mission, but she got the feeling doing so would only worry Holst. Most things came down to that possibility: worrying Holst. If someone were to read her letters centuries from now, they would have though the war had been all sunshine and rainbows. With a sigh, she settled on writing about the sauna. Boring, but safe. 

“ What are you writing there, Hilda? Wait, let me guess. You're replying to one of your brother's letters, right?” Hilda turned to find Claude entering the classroom. 

“Of course. It's a pain, but I make sure to always send him a response, otherwise he'll worry. It's much easier than when we lived together. A few letters here and there are a small price to pay for this peaceful, brother-free environment.” Why she was expected to write  _ him  _ a letter for  _ her  _ birthday was beyond her, but it was best not to argue such things. She didn’t know which line she’d have to cross before Holst forced her back to the Goneril estate, after all. 

“Well, that's a fine thing to do, regardless of your reasons. As for me, it's been far too long since I've written to my parents…”

Hilda blinked. She’d never been one to care for the affairs of the other Leicester nobles, but everyone had heard of Godfrey von Riegan’s unfortunate demise. “Oh? I thought your father had died.”

“Not quite. He's still alive and kicking...as far as I know. The late duke who died in an accident was my uncle,” Claude corrected. 

“I see. I do recall you mentioning that your mother was born into the Riegan family,” Hilda remembered. That would mean his Almyran half would have come from his father. “What's your father like, if you don't mind me asking?”

“He's quite the extravagant character. When I was a kid, he used to tie me to a horse and drag me around.”

Hilda’s eyes almost popped out of her skull. “Excuse me?!”

Claude rubbed the back of his neck, ears pink. “In all fairness, I was quite a little brat. The horse thing sounds worse than it is. There's a sort of trick to it…”

Though Hilda could believe the brat part, the rest didn’t rest well with her at all. “A trick I hope I never need to learn. Your mother didn't step in and make him stop?”

Claude laughed. “Gods, no. She'd just laugh right along with him. If my father is extravagant, my mother's more like a warrior goddess or...maybe a demon queen.” 

Taking into account Claude’s easy-going nature, Hilda considered calling out his bluff. The possibility that a calm man like him could be conceived by such fearsome individuals was almost comical. 

Claude gave her no time to recover. “This one time, she got into an argument with my combat instructor and wound up in a full-on fistfight with the guy. What's more? She won! My instructor was a mighty warrior, undefeated in a hundred battles, but even he was no match for her.”

“Huh? But your mother is a lady of nobility!”

“True, but she was the kind of woman to elope with the man she loved and throw it all away. Not your average duchess at all.”

“Ooh, they eloped! I like that. It's so romantic.” Hilda placed a hand on her warming cheeks. She’d often fantasized of such things when she’d been fed up with her life back home. In her dreams, a dashing young man would whisk her away from the estate, away from her brother, and they’d travel the world together. “Imagine, abandoning your family forever to be with the one you love! Not everyone can do that.”

“It's not a question of can. It's a question of will. Even someone like you, who generally despises effort, would pull out all the stops for something you really care about. Isn't that right?”

Hilda blinked a few times and brought her hand to her chest in mock offense. “Excuse me? I put in plenty of effort!”

Claude gave one of his genuine smiles. She’d been seeing them a lot more often, and she welcomed the change. “Hey, that was a compliment! Anyhow, I look forward to the day when something inspires you to try your absolute hardest. It will be something to behold.”

“You’re gonna regret saying that when I stop organizing supplies,” Hilda teased. 

“Don’t even joke about that,” Claude laughed. “If I have to do that too, I’ll never get a wink of sleep.” 

“Well, maybe I’ll forgive you if you ask nicely.”

“Wasn’t your first present enough to warrant forgiveness?” 

“First present?”

“A good story, remember? You said you wanted one in your letters.” 

“So you didn’t forget!” 

“Your birthday? Not after last time, I didn’t. If I had to add a week of chores to my agenda, this war would never end.”

Hilda couldn’t keep a smile from taking over her face. As much as she’d insisted she’d be fine if he forgot, the relief sweeping over her entire body begged to differ. 

“So by first present, am I led to believe there’s another?” she asked. 

“There’s no need to be so greedy,” Claude teased. “But yes, there is.”

Hilda set down her pen and shoved her unfinished letter into her dress. Holst wouldn’t mind if it showed up a day late, would he? “Alright, I’m listening.”

“You ever been to Faerghus?” Claude asked. 

“Not unless you count the Lonato and Miklan missions back at the Academy.” Hilda shuddered. Both of those had been horribly unpleasant. Looking back, that had probably been the beginning of her distaste for hero relics. Even if her crest protected her from turning into a demonic beast, using Freikugel still caused her some distress. 

“Great, it’ll be a first for both of us!” Claude snatched up her hand and led her out of the classroom. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” asked Hilda. 

“We’re taking a little trip.” 

“Right now? I’m supposed to have cake in a few hours.”

“The cake can wait,” Claude insisted. “Besides, it’ll be a short trip.” 

He guided her straight to the stables, making a bee line for his wyvern’s stall. The wyvern in question licked his face almost immediately upon his arrival. No matter how many years Hilda had spent with a wyvern of her own, she would never get used to the way they showed their affection. She had mostly trained the habit out of hers, but she tended to relapse every now and again. 

“I feel obligated to tell you this isn’t going to work,” she said as Claude threw the door open. 

“And why not?”

“We can’t just casually cross into Faerghus!”

“Says who?”

“Won’t it look suspicious?” 

“Faerghus is a mess right now. You really think they’re investing on border surveillance anywhere that isn’t directly bordering Adrestia?”

“Still!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be going covert.” Claude reached into a stack of hay at the far corner of the stall and threw a heavy fur cloak her way. It reminded her of the fabric Faerghus soldiers wore under their armor to keep warm. 

“Where did you even get these?” 

“Consider it a present from Balthus.” Claude barely paid her any mind as he fitted his wyvern with a saddle. 

“What if we get caught?” 

“If anything goes wrong, we’ve got this.” Claude handed her an unsealed envelope. Inside, a short letter signed Cassandra was neatly folded. The handwriting felt familiar to her somehow, but she couldn’t place her finger on why. 

“Who’s Cassandra?” 

“Lord Charon’s daughter,” Claude explained. “We’re headed for his territory. It proves our friendly intentions.”

“How’d you even get this?”

“That’s top secret information.”

“I can keep a secret.”

“I think you’re keeping enough as is. Can’t have you overburdened on your birthday.”

“I guess you’re right.” Hilda put away the letter and tried on the cloak. Immediately, her muscles relaxed as the fur warmed them up. She hoped Balthus didn’t ask for it back. 

“This means you’re flying, right?” she asked. 

“You have your own wyvern!” Claude protested. 

“But it’s my birthday~” Hilda pouted. “Besides, Cherche deserves a break.” 

Claude chuckled. “Is that what you named your wyvern?”

“Cute, right?”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Fine. Hilal likes you anyway.” 

“Now  _ that’s _ a cute name.”

“What can I say? Like rider, like wyvern.” Claude pressed his face against Hilal’s, which only caused another slobbery reaction. 

Hilda pet both of their heads. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

* * *

The flight to Charon territory only took an hour or so. Between the cloaks and their combined body heat, they’d somehow managed to keep warm in spite of the harsh winds. Claude shivered the entire trip, but Hilda restrained herself from teasing him. It wasn’t like she fared any better. 

“Where are we headed to exactly?” she asked. 

“According to Cyril, there’s supposed to be some kind of restaurant nearby. Authentic Faerghus cuisine.”

“Fancy~” Hilda pressed herself closer to Claude’s back as an especially chilly gust of wind found its way between the folds of her cloak. “You’re really using up Alliance money to take me out?”

“I’m still Duke Riegan, you know. I’ve got my own money.” 

“Fair enough.” Hilda still depended on whatever money her family sent her. She had never ached to inherit the Goneril estate, but she wouldn’t complain if they offered her full financial control. 

“How did Cyril know about this place anyway?” she asked. 

“Apparently, the knights passed by here during their search for Rhea.”

“And you’re sure we’re not lost?” They’d been flying above the same gloomy forest for ages now. 

“I’ll have you know I was top of my class when it came to geography,” Claude boasted. “Granted, I was the only one in my class, but it’s still true.”

Hilda rolled her eyes. As she did so, she caught a line of smoke in the horizon. “Could that be it?”

Claude looked in the direction she was pointing in. “I don’t see anything else, so let’s give it a shot.”

Sure enough, as they neared the smoke, Hilda spotted a small building. If not for the faint live music spilling from the open windows, she would have mistaken it for a log cabin. The roof had been insulated with thick grass, and smoke came out of three chimneys at the far left.

“Whatever they serve, at least it’ll be warm,” Claude said as he began his descent. 

Hilda hopped off Hilal the moment his feet touched the ground and wrapped the cloak tighter around herself. How could a place only an hour away from Garreg Mach be twenty degrees colder? 

After Claude tied Hilal up to a post by the door (much to the bewilderment of the few horses there), he ran his hand through his hair and gave it a good shake. “Do I look inconspicuous enough now?” 

“Hold on.” Hilda ruffled his hair further until it fell into his eyes. Her fingers lingered over the locks, enjoying the feel of his rough hair. He’d ditched his usual patriotic get up in favor of something less obvious: a pair of sleek black pants, a collared shirt, and light vest. He’d even shaved his beard, claiming that it “wouldn’t actually grow anytime soon.” Paired with his unruly hair, Claude couldn’t possibly be recognized as the Alliance leader. Somehow, he looked more like himself this way, free of the heavy responsibilities he’d been carrying since their return to Garreg Mach. The look suited him well. 

“There,” she finished. 

Claude blew the hair out of his face and wrapped his arm around Hilda’s shoulder. “Alright, let’s give this food a shot.”

He led her into the restaurant. They were immediately met by a blonde woman who didn’t say a word as she pointed them to an empty table. Directly beside it, a lone violinist played for the few spread out patrons on a low stage. 

They took a seat. The chair creaked under Hilda’s weight. She convinced herself they were just old. 

“Do you know what you want?” the waitress asked, hand on her hip. 

“Do you have a menu?” Claude asked. 

“No.”

“Oh.” 

Hilda helped Claude out. “We’ll just take two of whatever you consider your finest dish.”

The waitress gave a soft chuckle at the comment, but nodded and left for the kitchen. 

Claude grimaced. “That can’t be a good sign.”

“Absolutely not,” Hilda agreed. “This place is depressing.” 

The other patrons paid them no mind. They all solemnly downed their own drinks, chatting in low voices amongst themselves. All of them bore the same tired expression. Hilda knew little about Faerghus’ position in the war, but by the looks of it, it wasn’t any good. 

“Why don’t we liven things up a bit?” Claude suggested. 

“By?”

“Recall the monastery ball?”

“Oh, I like where this is headed.”

“Hey, sir,” Claude hissed at the violinist. 

The man continued playing, but leaned his head down to listen to what Claude had to say. Claude slipped him a bill. 

“Could you play something a little more uplifting?”

The violinist stopped mid-song and snatched the money a little too enthusiastically. If the other customers had noticed the music had gone, they didn’t make it known. The violinist cracked his knuckles, then began playing a much jollier tune. 

Claude offered Hilda his hand, and Hilda gladly took it. At that moment, Hilda didn’t care about laying low, placing all her faith in the letter Claude had obtained. What was the use in worrying about such silly things on her birthday?

As if they were still teenagers, the two of them spun around the restaurant, catching the attention of everyone else in the process. They weaved between tables and patrons alike, making up their moves on the spot. They took turns leading, somehow avoiding stepping on any toes. 

The violin picked up as Claude dipped her low to the floor. His smile lit up the otherwise dim room. His eyes were closed, but the crinkles just above his cheeks gave away his joy. Hilda tried her best to carve the image into her memory in case he ever tried to deny it. Her cheeks flushed as he pulled her back up. Claude grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up onto the stage in one swoop. 

“Everyone give it up for the birthday girl!” he announced. 

Only a few awkward claps rang out, but Hilda was too elated to be embarrassed. Holst would pop a vein if he ever saw her dancing in a tavern like this, especially one in Faerghus. Nevermind that, though; Between Claude’s incessant meetings and her own work, when had it been the last time since they had time to themselves like this? The stage may have been only a few inches above the ground, but she felt on top of the world as Claude stared at her with sparkling green eyes and cheered. 

“Here’s your food,” the waitress interrupted, setting two bowls of stew on the table. She made no comment about their behavior and returned behind the countertop without a second glance. 

“Ready to dig in?” Claude helped Hilda down from the stage. 

Hilda took a look at her bowl. Its contents consisted of brown and mushy chunks floating in a pungent broth. She couldn’t make out any of the ingredients by sight alone, but she could definitely make out the smell of potato and corn starch. 

“I hope this isn’t representative of all Faerghus food,” she said. 

Claude held up his spoon. “Ready when you are.”

The two clinked spoons and took their first bite.

“So what do you think?” Claude asked after struggling to swallow for a few seconds. 

Hilda let her bite fall back into her bowl. 

Claude patted her shoulder. “Good, I was afraid it was just me.”

“Cyril recommended this place?”

“Well, looking back, I don’t think he ever told me this place was any  _ good _ .”

“Did you see the monster tied outside?” an incoming customer loudly asked some people seated at another table. “A wyvern! Who owns a wyvern around these parts?”

“That might be our cue,” Hilda said. 

Claude nodded. “What do you say we head back? I heard there’s cake.” 

* * *

They were back in the air in no time at all. Despite bracing herself for the cold, the warm restaurant had only made things worse once they’d stepped back outside. Hilda hoped the ride back would be a quick one; the sooner she got to dig into some good food, the better. 

“Before we head back, mind if we take one more detour? There’s supposed to be a very pretty waterfall close by,” Claude suddenly said. 

“A waterfall?” Hilda had never seen one before. The delicious cake in her mind’s eye called out to her, but she dismissed it for the time being. “Okay. Just as long as we don’t take too long.”

Claude nodded and switched Hilal’s course. True to his word, it only took a few extra minutes to come face to face with the waterfall. Or, what they assumed was the waterfall, at any rate. 

“This was a bad idea,” Claude deadpanned. 

Hilda could barely contain her laughter. “This is pathetic!”

The waterfall, though perhaps pretty at some point in the year, certainly didn’t look the part currently. A slide of thick ice extended from top to bottom. The river above boasted plenty of floating ice chunks, which occasionally fell over the edge and created cracks on the lake surface below. Even the surrounding brush was crusted in frost. If she stepped on it, Hilda feared it would break into her boot. 

Claude sighed. “Maybe I should’ve guessed it’d be frozen at this time of year. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” Hilda squeezed him from behind to reassure him. “This has already been tons of fun. I’m sure it will make a good story someday.”

“Well, you’re right about that. Mind keeping Holst out of the loop, though? I don’t want him to think I’m this useless.”

“He doesn’t need to know a thing.” 

“Great.” Claude rose above the clouds once more, leaving the waterfall out of sight. “Let’s go back, for real this time.” 

“Yeah, let’s.”

With every passing minute, Hilda felt her bones relax as the winds warmed up slightly. Though the trip hadn’t inspired any love for Faerghus, she’d thoroughly enjoyed it. If she weren’t a Goneril and Claude weren’t a Riegan, she may have suggested they ditch the war effort altogether and dedicate themselves to more adventures like these. 

“Say, Claude?”

“Yeah?”

“Why this trip?” Hilda asked. “Don’t you have other things to do?”

“I’ll deal with all that later. You’re number one on my agenda today.” 

“You could’ve just gifted me flowers and called it a day.”

“Anyone could have given you flowers,” Claude objected. “And your jewelry is much prettier than anything they sell in the markets. Your perfume already smells great. I had to get creative.”

Hilda basked in the praise. She received compliments every day, but it had been awhile since she’d gotten any from Claude. His always seemed to be her favorite. “And this was your solution?”

“It’s not as ridiculous as you’re making it seem. It’s actually one of the first things I came up with.”

“Why’s that?” Hilda could have sat down for hours and still not come up with an idea like this. Granted, Claude spat out ideas like Alois spat out bad jokes, but even so. 

Claude remained quiet for a moment. “... You’ll tease me if I say anything else.”

“I won’t!” 

“You promise?”

Hilda squeezed him again. “I promise. You’ve already got me in such a good mood, after all.” 

Claude detached one of his hands from the reins and placed it above her own. “I wanted to give you the world.”

“What?”

“You were always complaining about it. In your letters, I mean. How much you hated being stuck in your own little corner of Fodlan,” Claude said in small bursts. “I figured you’d enjoy getting to see someplace new, even if it’s a little drabby.” 

Hilda’s heart swelled an additional three sizes. She wanted to tackle Claude to the ground, but that would have ended terribly at their height. Instead, she kept quiet, enjoying the warmth that crept over her entire body. 

“Say something or I’ll have you fly instead,” Claude muttered. 

Hilda opted for a simple: “Thank you.” It couldn’t begin to carry all the appreciation and love she hoped to convey to him, but it was all she could come up with in the moment. She promised herself she would make it up to him some other time.

“I’ll show you a nicer place next time. Once we win this, I’m going to show you and everyone else the whole world, not just Fodlan.” 

“I’ll keep you to that.” 

* * *

The sun had long set by the time they returned to Garreg Mach. Claude temporarily parked Hilal by the Officer’s Academy to drop Hilda off. He could already make out the lit torches within their old classroom. He hoped Lorenz wouldn’t tell him off for arriving so late, especially on account of a bad meal and a depressing sightseeing attempt. 

“I’ll drop off Hilal at the stables, I’ll meet you back at the classroom for cake,” he told Hilda. 

“Okay, but don’t take too long!” Hilda planted a kiss on his cheek before she left. 

Claude’s cheeks burned as he guided Hilal back to the stables, and then to his stall. As he closed the stable doors behind him, he found Cyril replacing the horse feed outside. 

“Thanks, Cyril. I really owe you one,” Claude told him. 

“Ya sure do.” Cyril wiped the sweat off his brow and continued working. “Catherine’s still a little pissed about me being so pushy.”

“As long as she’s still pining over Shamir, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Heh, guess so.” 

Claude sighed. If he had just marked his calendar like he said he would, he could’ve gone about things differently. Cyril’s stray comment that morning had tipped him off to the date, and the rest of the day had been spent making last minute preparations at the boy’s expense. Tomorrow he’d have to make up all the work he’d neglected, but all that mattered was that he’d been able to pull everything off (at least partially).

“I don’t get what you see in her, I really don’t,” Cyril said, his back turned to Claude. 

“Please, Cyril. We’re just friends.” He’d told himself the same thing night after night. It was a fact; they  _ were  _ just friends. That fact wouldn’t change unless he did something about it. 

“Mhm.” Cyril carried on, clearly unconvinced. If he had been anyone else, Claude would have rushed to correct him, but he knew Cyril would be the last person to spread rumors. Being the target of Cyril’s silent judgement wasn’t anything new to Claude anyway.

“Well what about you and Lysithea, hm?” Claude teased. He’d enjoy watching the younger man squirm and deny it. Lysithea had been wise enough to avoid him when he was bored or in need of a little fun, so Cyril would have to be his victim this time around. 

“Well, yeah. Of course I like her,” Cyril replied. He didn’t even flinch as he returned the empty buckets to the shack. “It’s not like I’m keeping it a secret.”

Claude blinked. “Wait, you’re not serious.”

Cyril rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why wouldn’t I be? Is there any use in beating around the bush?” 

Beating around the bush was the only way Claude knew how to do things. Avoiding confrontations, avoiding truths, avoiding anything that could hurt him or his friends. His stand against the Empire had been the most direct he’d been with anything, and even then their missions relied on covert operations, trickery, and wild schemes. It was the only way to ensure the safety of as many people as possible. 

He had no intentions of dying, and he knew Hilda didn’t either, but such things could hardly be guaranteed in wartime. How could he knowingly make it harder for either of them should the unthinkable happen? Even if they both survived, what then? He’d had to dodge multiple assassination attempts for his Fodlan half in Almyra. Could he really bring Hilda into that environment, especially as a Goneril? 

He couldn’t risk her. He wouldn’t. No matter how he thought about it, and he’d thought about it a great deal, his feelings could only end in heartbreak or worse. All of that assuming she even felt the same. As long as he failed to confront the longing in his heart, as long as he kept beating around the bush, maybe he could keep them both safe. 

“Don’t you think things would get complicated?” Claude scratched the back of his neck and lowered his eyes to the ground. “If she doesn’t feel the same, I mean.”

“What is there to complicate? If she doesn’t feel the same, then that’s that. I’ll get over it.” 

“Just like that?” 

“I’ve had to get over a lot of things,” Cyril explained in a hushed tone. “What’s one more?”

Claude gave Cyril a pat on the back. “Well, for your sake, I hope you don’t have to give her up.”

Cyril gave a slight smile. “I do too.” 

“What do you say we go get some cake? Lysithea picked it out,” Claude suggested. 

“Well, she does have good taste…” 

“Come on then.” 

Claude helped Cyril clean up the last of the supplies and began walking beside him to the classroom. Back in Almyra, Claude had at least had his parents and Nader to back him up. Cyril hadn’t had that privilege. To face everything alone for all those years, traveling with the knights and even before then… 

“You’re a really brave kid, Cyril.”

Cyril shook his head. “Nah, you’re just a coward. Because ya overthink things.” 

Claude couldn’t argue with that logic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked some fluffy goodness, because next chapter we head to Gronder. Not sure when the next update will be, but look forward to it regardless. 
> 
> Hilal's name comes from @sleepinggoblin on Twitter. I just really loved the name, so I figured I'd use it here :) Cherche's is a shameless Awakening plug lol. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Hopefully, it won't take another year before we wrap this up.


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